


No Retreat, No surrender

by Veronica_Lake



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Chloe the football/soccer player, F/F, Hate to Love, Modern Royalty, Set in Europe, Slow Burn, Sports, Victoria the Royal daughter, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-11 13:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 113,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13525161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veronica_Lake/pseuds/Veronica_Lake
Summary: “A heinous bitch, that's what she is. I will not work with her. Not now, not later, not ever.”William did not die, Max is still out of the picture and Chloe is still untamed, sometimes angry and sometimes feels betrayed. But everything is so much easier with her loving parents around. When forced to work with someone coming from the utterly different environment, someone she cannot stand by nature, with The queen bitch herself, her life is turned upside down. Both of their lives.





	1. Prologue

**Monday, October 7, 2013,**

**10:57 am., Principal’s office, Willstät Academy, Willstät, Germany**

 Principal Kellerman has been working in education for many years and has been through many challenging situations. That's why he knew young women and men in one of the most difficult yet beautiful period of their life very often go against their own interests, falsely assume they know better than full grown and experienced fellows. Of course, it's only natural to rebel, to take a stand for what they believe is right and then to learn from their mistakes perhaps. But the point of this whole dispute, the disagreement about the matter of such a little value and importance was beyond him.

“You said my redemption for breaking the Prescott asshole nose will be doing something meaningful for our school. But spending my precious time with nonsense so irrelevant and useless as posing for photos is ridiculous. Even more ridiculous when she has to be around.” Before he could respond to harsh words more of those followed.

“A heinous bitch, that's what she is. I will not work with her. Not now, not later, not ever. I’d rather vomit razorblades.” The young athlete was furious, and even when she did not direct her anger towards the person with the highest authority in Willstät Academy, he definitely was about to lose his patience.

“Not to mention her whole narcissistic existence is a mockery of the mankind. Her preposterous patterns and manipulations belong to the middle age, not on high school!”

There was no secret that Chloe Price was outspoken and sharp-tongued, but righteous not plainly mean. There were times when she crossed the line due to her untamed nature but always kept her wits about herself. She was well-respected amongst most of the students and when on the football field she always played hard but fair as an exceptional leader for her teammates. Why did she suddenly feel an urge to rebel again to draw herself into a petty fight and use such offensively impolite words, it remained secret for principal Kellerman. Nevertheless, he did not plan to budge.

“Well miss Price, if you insist.”

“I insist.” Chloe's face was still red from the anger her breaths were quick and shallow. It seemed like working with Victoria Chase was the most severe challenge in her life and there was no way she is going to accept it.

“You've already violated the school rules this semester. You know what it means. If you refuse to participate in this task, I have to suspend you indefinitely from school and from the team. Till the school board will decide your fate.” The principal was sure this will work. Chloe would not weaken her team.  

“You cannot do that. By now I have a senior contract.” Even when trying to sound confident she knew there was a catch.

“Of course you have, but I am sure you read it thoroughly, and you are aware the contract is bind to your status as a student, because of health and social insurance issues.” Damn, he believed they already had been through that. That Chloe's Price rebel without the cause phase had been long over.

 “It's only one project Chloe, only six weeks. Whatever the problem is you can overcome it. You can do this.” It was against principal's liking, but he basically pleaded.

“You've already had my answer, Mr. Kellerman.” She gulped. The defiance was fading. “And I suppose it means there is no reason for me to linger. Goodbye.”

“You have time to change your mind till next Monday.” He shouted, but Chloe Price was already gone. She headed straight to the exit. _This school can fuck off. No one will see her cry. No one._

“Well, principal it's very unfortunate and saddening that a promising and talented athlete lacks a proper tact and manners and refused to participate in such a progressive and inspirational task.” The other person in office composed, courteous was waiting patiently for her moment to come.

“But I am without a doubt the best photographer far and wide so it will be a waste of my potential and this school potential if I stay without a subject for this contest. I have plenty in mind who would gladly volunteer.” Without years of experience he would easily believe Victoria’s words were genuine, sadly only unfortunate thing was he knew she neither consider her schoolmate promising nor talented and she definitely did not mind Chloe Price is reluctant to participate.

“Your task partner didn't refuse Miss Chase, she just needs some time to process.”

It had been an unexpected turn of events when the wealthy teenager left the private school in New York and came back to her homeland wishing to join the Willstät Academy. There are plenty of private educational facilities in the district, she could attend. When Arthur Kellerman had met her parents, Duchess von Liechtenstein and Richard W. Chase for the first time he wasn't particularly excited to accept their privilege daughter for a study. He hadn’t understood why they even desired her to attend a public school till he realised they actually weren't fond of it at all. They only came to make an entrance, show the superiority. She was the one who wanted that. So seeing the family situation and her genuine interest in photography he had considered Victoria Chase deserves a chance to be a decent person. The same opportunity had been given to Chloe Price even when her situation was completely different. Was he wrong about Victoria? About Chloe? About both of them?

“But she doesn't even want this. How can we cooperate if she is going to sabotage the whole thing?” The fake serenity almost fell apart.

“Uhm.. I mean, it would be for the best if someone who is actually invested will join the cause.” Victoria Chase needed to remember she will not have the hysterical outburst like some blunt football wench.

“I am sure as the best photographer far and wide you will have no trouble to use your outstanding skills to create a connection with an unyielding subject and capture the perfect shots. Your entry will be accepted only when you'll work with Miss Price. Now you are dismissed.”

“But….”

“I said dismissed.”

The aspiring photographer left the principal's office in a hurry. She didn't even say goodbye. Her chest felt heavy, her eyes stung. She headed straight to the restrooms. _She has to bring her shits together. No one will see her cry. No one._

  



	2. The girl who does not cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is strange was a life changing experience for me. The truth is I neither could stand Victoria nor Chloe in the beginning. In the end, I’ve become very fond of them. Some aspects of this story are based on real events, especially those related to the football/soccer. Original characters and Willstätt academy are purely fictional. Victoria and Chloe are both seniors and according to the European law legally adult (18 resp. 19 years old). POV’s changing between those two, usually after the paragraph.
> 
> There will be regular weekly updates. Saturday afternoon EST. I’m not a native speaker, so any beta is welcome.  
> Need to say I was inspired/influenced by [this one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3526574/chapters/7757108). It is one of the most amazing fanfiction stories I’ve ever read. If not the best. So if you have a moment, don't hesitate to check it.

**Monday, October 7, 2013,**

**5:28 am., Chase Manor, Strasbourg, France, 3 km from Germany borders**

After you opened your eyes, you blink once, twice, three times in sum before you silence the alarm and close them again. Cold darkness is embracing you, and it will continue even when you turn the lights on or take the hot shower after the morning yoga. You already know that. There are only 110 seconds left from this day when you don't have to pretend you are perfect, flawless, ice cold queen bitch. It's easier, though than when you were on a private high school in New York. Yes, you wanted that, yes it was one of the best visual arts schools, and you learnt a lot there, and yes you were far away from your _loving_ parents. But you definitely don't miss pretentious, manipulative, sociopathic queen bee wannabes, that place was crawling with. Not like you didn't become one of them. But what could you possibly do, you were always predestined to be this way. Time’s up. You leave the bed and head to the bathroom for the basic morning hygiene. The lights are still off when you wash your face. It's not like turning them on would make this place so huge and soulless any lighter. Back in your room, you open the window put the sports clothes on and sit down on the yoga mat. Sometimes you’re not even sure why doing this. Maybe it actually helps to suppress the anxiety. Maybe advanced yoga practise is a way to forget million different ways how you can fail to meet everyone's expectations. When you finally in the shower you feel a bit better. Your thoughts lead to the moment when you came back from New York more than a year ago you. You felt the relief so strong it even beat the disappointment your parents, well mainly the Duchess didn't hesitate to show at full range everytime you were around. And you also felt happy to be with your little brother again. He was actually one of the main reasons why your grave crime was pardoned eventually. You claimed you came back to help him adjust. Which was partly true. The news you had been receiving in New York about his _lack of adaptability_ were… disturbing. It only had helped to make the decision and leave The States. It didn't take long, and his outbursts of rage minimise or period of no talking abbreviated. Dear mother and father were pleased, as much as someone unpleasable could ever be that he was stable again and not a disgrace to his family. And you were pleased too. As much as someone… well. Wilstätt Academy students were easy to bend to your will, no one was after your throat anymore, and for a public school, it has had a very decent photography program. Everything was bearable again. Or you just wanted to believe that. But then you lost the young photograph annual contest to some Berlin hipster, Caldwell, Kellner, Callwhatever and everything went to hell. Someone would be happy for the second place, but you are the daughter of the Duchess, you are Victoria Chase, it means you should rather be dead than second. It didn't help at all her pictures were amazing, and your bitch mode was suddenly fully on again. But today a new motive for a new year of annual contest will be announced. And this time you’re going to win. You have to. Failure is not an option.

After you've made yourself look impeccable, you are ready to face the Duchess. She is standing in the middle of the pristine kitchen she’s never used. Except for the prohibitively expensive and excessively stylish Italian coffee machine. Coffee is fantastic though, you have to admit.

“It’s a peculiar choice for an outfit Victoria, but at least there is a hint of improvement.”

“Oh, how kind of you, mother.”

“Of course, my dear. What kind of mother I would be if I would not channel you in the right direction, sharpen your vigilance, your inner sense of aesthetics and perfection.”

You don't even know what it means. What you do know is the Duchess von Liechtenstein never wanted to be a mother. It was just an obligation she had to fulfil. And now you and your brother are obliged to be everything that is expected from you as a bearer of von Liechtenstein royal blood and high profile Chase name.

“Heya, Vic.” At least some brightness still exist in this house of sorrows. And this brightness just hopped on your back and kissed your cheek. You cannot give him a smile at least not a proper one, your mother is watching you have to hold a decorum, but he can see it in your eyes.

“Frederik, this is not how a young gentleman should behave. I am sure your sister put as much effort as she is capable of to look at least decent. Your reckless action could ruin her moderate attempt.”

You remember the time when you were younger and such criticism hurt you. Now it's just inarticulate cluster of words. After some more _well-aimed_ preaching and superiority Freddy and you are heading to the garage. Once in the silver Audi, you can finally give him a smile he deserves. He begs you to take him to McDonald's for breakfast. For this times you succumb. You know it will make him happy even if it's the worst choice for morning meal for 13 years old boy, but his happiness is one of the few things in this world that really matters to you. After you dropped him off at school, you wonder about the motive of the annual contest again. You know you should not be in high hopes, but something like _Isolated_ or _Within a frame_ would be great. Your advanced social skills take care of necessary morning conversations without a need to be involved actually. You’re glad, you cannot focus on anything else than contest anyway. Finally first class is over, so you rush to the photography. Well not rush, you are proper Lady you never rush, but it's a relief to hear Mrs. Kellerman talking about the topic you are currently interested in the most. You almost miss she brought some other students with her. Are they jocks? And then principal shows up and brings another wanker. Angst starts to crawl under your skin when outstanding athlete and aspiring photographer cooperation is mentioned. With so many possibilities how can they choose something so obnoxious? You have no idea the worst part is only about to come.

“And the last couple for this special showtime, the connection between artists and athletes, the _Bodies emotions_ contest are Victoria Chase and Chloe Price.”

You have to calm down. It has to be the way out of this. Maybe you can work with some young fencer. You bet you could find one. Or at worst with some track and field athlete from your school. Chloe Price is not an option. Some football lowlife will not be a part of the most important thing in your life. That's not going to happen. You are explaining to  Mrs. Kellerman and believe in success. You are polite and reasonable but everything inside you burns. Some irresponsible, lazy, incompetent waif who never had to do anything in her life, who never had to prove anything to anyone will not ruin this for you.

In no time you are both sitting in the principal's office.

 

**Monday, October 7, 2013,**

**7:02 am., Price House, Willstät, Germany, 1 km from France borders**

_Knock, knock, knock._

“Chloe? Chloe… it´s time.”

It’s your mum. Always so nice and soothing. You are sure if the world were about to end she would just serve a perfect french toast with reassurance everything is going to be alright.

“I’m coming.”

You growl and look at the table clock. 30 minutes till the practice begin. Good thing you live so close to the stadium. Why it's always so hard to wake up in the morning, you wonder. Maybe it would be easier if you weren't roaming the plains of Pulse with Claire Farron and her companions till long after midnight. You somehow manage to get yourself out of bed and end in the bathroom. After you've made yourself look like a human being, you spot neatly folded sports clothes on the dresser. Of course. Mum always knows, always cares about what you need, what you want. Even when you were super pissed with your parents when they dragged you from Berlin to this almost rural settlement hundreds of kilometres away, you knew they had only a little choice to do differently, when dad’s employer offered transfer or termination of his contract.  Some filthy rich bastard. It doesn't mean you've stopped feeling resentful from time to time. Hell, you made it to the Turbine Potsdam senior team as the youngest player in club history. You could play for one of the best teams in the country not to mention they cut you from your best friend. Or she cut you after you left.

Max Caulfield. Never Maxine. You quickly put the clothes on and rush back to your room. Usually, you are able to hold yourself together when it comes to this matter. Not today. You reach for the phone and your disappointment and anger rise high. No messages from Max. 1 from Steph, 2 from your sweet but still delirious brother Trevor, 27 in the football team chat. Fuck it. It's been two weeks since you sent her happy birthday message. Super sophisticated and cute and sweet by all means. Her responses only come rarely. Last time you've got one was more than three months ago. Every day she did not respond to this time something vicious twisted inside you. And today, today you cannot fight the feeling you’ve reached the boiling point. From this moment everything seems vague, blurry. Milkshake, your mum, made for you. Dad’s jokes and drive to the morning training session where you pushing yourself too hard, almost ripping your muscles. The moment you are finally slightly back to your consciousness is the moment when principal Kellerman picks you from Physics class.  His voice is gravely serious. You have only little idea what he is talking about because Max is still all in your head, so you just nod to everything that he says. _Probably not the best approach, Chloe._

“This is your chance how to clear your record. You'll participate in school activities as we talked about. So come on, this is a great opportunity how to promote our school and yourself.”

You thought he will make you clean the schoolyard or bake some cookies. But his words suggest no such thing. He pushes you into some schoolroom, you've never been at.  It's packed. So much photography equipment in here. Fuck. Max would love it. Photography teacher Mrs. Kellerman, principal's wife is talking about some kind of contest. Why should this be your concern? Angst starts to crawl under your skin when she mentions outstanding athlete and aspiring photographer cooperation. No way they can force you to be a part of something so obnoxious.  But why else the principal would bring you here? It has to be way out of it. You are not going to be a part of any photo shooting.You have no idea the worst part is only about to come.

“And the last couple for this special showtime, the connection between artists and athletes, the _Bodies emotions_ contest are Victoria Chase and Chloe Price. So dear photographers and athletes the deadline for submitting your eight perfect photos is 22nd November. Don't forget school winner automatically enters the national round and has a chance their panels will be exhibited in the Zeitgeist gallery in Berlin.”

You’ve just heard your name and that goon in one sentence. You're probably high or something because this can't be the truth. Yeah, you don't remember using forbidden substances for months, but nevertheless, there is no chance something like this is actually happening. Maybe you just forgot. _Except that's not a case. Everything is real_.

She starts with a thoughtful approach, explains why is unwise to create an unbalanced connection. _Who the fuck even use the words unwise or unbalanced in one sentence? Only vegan nutritionist._ It might not be crystal clear, but she heavily mocks you to no end. You want to smack her. You don't. It's a mystery to you though, why not. Still, you cannot control your anger. This pitiful existence dares to talk shit about you when you stand right here. A plastic doll who never ever had to do anything to prove herself. Only depends on her parent's money. She has no knowledge of the real life. Whatever she wanted it was given to her for free. She thinks she's better than anyone else because she was born in wealth. _Fuck that. Fuck her._ Without her money, she would be no addition to mankind. She is a fraud. You make some snarky comments about the pointlessness of the whole photo thing about Victoria’s Chase existence perhaps, light provocations, you don't remember because today is still a bit blurry. She holds her breath. Almost. And then you are both called to the principal’s office.

 


	3. The girl with odds never in her favour

**Monday, October 7, 2013,**

**4:37 pm.,  Price House, Willstätt, Germany,**

_It’s a good thing._ Well, not exactly but at least you will be out of here. Fate has funny ways how to screw up with you but not anymore. Now you are going to screw with it. Roaming your room and throwing the stuff in travel bag thoughtlessly you're thinking about how you'll leave this hellhole and go back to Berlin. You’ll find Max, and she will have to work her ass off to show you how sorry she is about not staying in contact. Of course, you forgive her in no time and then…

“Hi, honey.”

“D-dad?” Fuck. What is he doing here? He supposed to be at work.

“Are you up for a journey?” He must know what happened. You bet principal already called him. To your surprise, he neither sounds angry nor disappointed. Actually, when you think about it, it's not a surprise at all. Your parents have been nothing but supportive despite all the shits you've done. But this is a major failure. You were expelled from school.

“I am going to Berlin.” You gulp. “Dad, don't pretend you don't know.” And continue after he keeps silent. “You must be aware I was kicked off.”

“I am aware of no such thing, Chloe. I only know you have some disagreement with the principal and you are going to solve it till next Monday.” Maybe if he could show a hint of anger, all this could be easier. But no, that is not your father style. Fuck.

“Do you really think I will do that? I will not bend to some rich bitch I will not be a coward like you.” You haven't even finished the sentence, and you already regret it. It's not his fault you had to leave Berlin, he has nothing to do with Max ignoring you or that stupid photo contest. But you need someone to blame, you need... ...to cry. And you do, and he holds you, but still, it cannot be unnoticed that simple hug will not solve this. You will not work with Victoria Chase. It’s a matter of honour.

“You are an adult by now, you are making your own decisions honey. But think about it. You still have a lot to pack. So don't rush and then you can have a dinner with us and a proper goodbye. At least you will not leave hungry.” He smiles warmly, and you couldn't oppose even if wanted to.

“Ok, dad. I´m sorry about…”

“Don't worry about it.”

He kisses you on the forehead and leaves you alone with your misery. His scheme is slowly coming to life. With more time to ponder, escape to Berlin plan starts to have a lot more flaws than it should. That’s how he always does it. Like when you wanted a blue hair or a tattoo. He is supportive, but behind the scene, he intends to distract you to aim your energy elsewhere. So you don't have tattoo nor blue hair because you listened to him and thought so much about design about the place where it should be that it wasn't important anymore. But it will not work this time. You are leaving, and the first thing you’ll do in Berlin is dyeing your hair. You look at your room and remember the time when it was an utter mess. You were an utter mess. Barely sober and almost always baked. Your parents did what they could but getting intoxicating substances into your body was more simple than getting a tattoo. They weren't able to keep you from going down a vicious road straight to hell. One night you got in serious trouble and if your dad wasn't there, did not pick your desperate call you'd probably be a goner. He beat two thugs and brought you back home. But maybe he shouldn't. Because then you got it. How much your parents care but also how much of a burden you really are to them. You’ve tried to change after that, But it doesn't matter, does it? Because nothing can change who you really are. An endless source of trouble. You decide you’ll pack later, for now, you need something really loud and angry. Something like  _ Toxicity.  _ So you put your earplugs in, sink into the bed and let yourself to be angry. Because anger is better than facing reality because you want to believe the odds are never in your favour because  _ fuck everything. _

Mum finds you half asleep half angry when comes to call you for dinner. She doesn't mention anything about the departure. If your brother Trevor weren’t pissed and threaten you to never ever talk to you again if you dare to leave, it would be the usual dinner. It is actually because mum pacifies him. You haven't even hung out much recently since he hooked up with your teammate Dana. Fuck. Why are they giving you such a hard time?  _ (Or more like a good time) _ Parents are all nice and supportive. They should be angry and disappointed so you could justify your departure. And Trev instead of all freaking out and caring about you he should be oblivious as always. It won't stop you anyway. Back in your room you finish packing and check your finances. With a semi-professional contract you have a small income, and with substance abuse under control, you have even been able to save some money, so you think about all the things you are going to do when back in Berlin. Sleep overcomes you long after the midnight.

***

The morning is no different than any other. Mum wakes you up, you find the neatly folded sports clothes in the bathroom, and if you haven’t noticed the packed bag next to your bed, you would believe it was only a bad dream. Dad is waiting for you in the kitchen all fired up to take you for the morning training session, and your courage falters. Maybe you should leave tomorrow. As a captain, you should at least say goodbye to your team or play one last game with them. Travel bag slide from your hand and ends up on the floor. You follow him to the car without a word, and he understands but once in the training facility he does not miss an opportunity to do what he can do best.

“Chloe, we love you, and we will respect any decision you are going to make. I am only asking you to think about my words.”  He would be probably the one you are going to miss the most when leave.

“You can't predict how people will act. But you can control how you’ll respond. In the end, that's what really matters.” But he won't change your mind.

“This girl you don't want to work with, Victoria, maybe knowing her a bit would help you understand why she feels a need to act like she does. It's not bending to anyone's will. It's just an endeavour to be the best person we can be. If she cannot do that, show her you can.” You don't need to show anything to that bitch and you won't.

“Bye, dad.” It's all you can offer.

 

**Monday, October 7, 2013,**

**8:28 pm.,  Chase Manor, Strasbourg, France,**

You have been holding yourself together whole day, but the outburst is lurking near no doubt. You’re viciously pacing your room exhaling calming substance. But it fucking does not bring any calm. You throw rest of the pot out the window and reach for a tripod. The floor lamp doesn't stand a chance. A couple of ferocious hits mangle it beyond recognition. The pressure in your brain is lowering. You feel a pinch of relief, but it's not enough. The tripod falls down and your fist clenches. An expensive tv screen meets the similar fate as the lamp. When you see your scraped knuckles, satisfaction overflows you. Your back hit the wall, and you slide down to the floor. After the episode of rage is over, familiar chunky body with a dense coat and broad face shows up. The _(Cheshire)_ cat. His copper eyes are observing you, but the distinctive grin is missing for this time. Damn, do you really look that pitiful that he decided to go light on you? He won’t say, just lays on your lap and purrs.

That's how Taylor finds you. She is distraught. You are friends, but not even she is allowed to see you like this. Sitting on the floor wounded, looking insane. The tight hug feels nice, but you need something significantly more extreme. Something like an endless night of getting wasted and mindfucked at the psychedelic party.  

When she tries to suggest you should go to the hospital, you tell her to fuck off and leave you alone.  Staying by yourself will definitely send you into the hellhole, but no one can see you like this. She obeys. She always does. With unharmed hand, you reach for the phone and text her to wait in the lounge. You move to the bathroom and for the moment only watch the soaking blood on your hand. The unexpected feeling of pleasure is not as disturbing as it should be. It takes time to treat your injury and make yourself look flawless one-handed, but you are Victoria Chase there is no obstacle big enough to keep you from attaining success. Before reuniting with Taylor, you check on Freddy. He doesn't notice anything, not even your bandaged hand, so it only proves he is going to be alright for tonight, and you are ready to party.

“Are you coming or what?” You snap at Taylor sitting on the opulent settee nervously playing with her phone.

“To the hospital?”

“To the club, nitwit.”

“But…” She must be really worried about you when she dares to oppose.

“Zip!” You connect thumb and forefinger and make a small move in front of her lips. She stands up and follows you through the house to the garage.

“Should I call Courtney?”

“No Courtney.” After that, there is no more speaking. You want to use that sharp tongue of yours thought when she is about to enter the driver seat instead of passenger one. In the end, you don’t. Her puppy eyes are sickening and so is her warm hand lingering on your arm. God, you swear she will burst into tears if you don't let her drive. Only because of some negligible injury. You cannot deal with that now. Fuck. Taylor is such a great girl. Even with so many issues and so many goals, she will never achieve, unlike of your other wannabes she does not seek superiority, nor she enjoys the wickedness you sometimes demand. She just wants to be popular and liked. That's why you’ve always been kinder to her, more open. Leaving her to drive your silver Audi or seeing you in the state of utter mess is too much though. It makes you uncomfortable. On the other hand, you need this. You want it so much. To have someone who has your back just for a moment. She is not perfect, but she's as good as it gets. So you let her drive. Even let her speak again when she finally mustered the courage to do so. When in the club there is no trouble to buy a meth.  Taylor is cool with gin and tonic, and you’re glad. Then you dance and finally can't care less about anything. About no support whatsoever from your idiotic parents or about how the odds are never in your favour. Till some pestilential suitors appear. Well, calling them suitors is highly inappropriate, they probably only want to fuck, and it's annoying because you came here to dance. With the intention to cast them out you grab Taylor and pull her into a passionate kiss. You’re smashed enough, and she’s an arm candy, so it's definitely not unpleasant. She doesn’t mind either, quite the opposite actually. Who would have guessed your blond little Barbie is into such things. Nevertheless, once you have enough, you go back to dancing, and it seems it's exactly what she expected.

***

It's almost five in the morning, and you are driving back to the dark mansion with Taylor asleep on the passenger seat. Methamphetamine is still working in your system, your senses are sharpened, your brain functioning at full capacity. It will last 12 more hours at least. And now after you enjoyed yourself greatly you can focus on the plan how to win that damn photo contest. Back home you ask the butler to carry the sleeping beauty into your bed. No way she is going to school in such shape. You, on the other hand, are more ready than ever. Skipping the yoga ritual seems like a reasonable thing to do. So you take a shower, change the bandages on your hand and make yourself suitable for the morning encounter with the Duchess. She keeps her daily routine, mocks your outfit, your lack of involvement and doubts you can work harder. It's funny how  _ observative  _ she is but still doesn't notice your wounded hand. Richard W. Chase on the other hand, who unexpectedly appears in the kitchen ( _ he's rarely around) _ , notices. You are pretty sure he is fully aware you are smashed, and your hand is maimed. He doesn't give a shit though. He hates the Duchess and is incredibly hard on Freddy, so those are at least some emotions, but with you there is nothing. Like you wouldn't exist. What can you say, perfect mummy and daddy. Well, Fuck them. You were always on your own, and you still made it. There will be no different this time.

  
  
  
  
  



	4. The girl who easily meets everyone's expectations

**Sunday, October 13, 2013,**

**10:47 am., Orsay Stadium, stands,  Willstätt, Germany,**

**SC Sand vs Vfl Bochum, 2nd Frauen Bundesliga**

You’ve never been in the place so low as this hole. Maybe sitting in the Skybox of Allianz Arena would be at least bearable but this schack with plastic seats and the smell of cheap beer and bratwurst is revolting. Thank God you talked with Freddy, and he gave you some useful tips what to wear or how to act. You almost faint thinking about how you planned to wear your Burberry jacket. Fortunately, Courtney borrowed you some suitable pieces that don't look like a farce. And it's not much, but the pepper spray in your pocket makes you feel slightly better. To your surprise, Taylor agreed to come with you. And you did not demand it like for real. Only mentioned how much pain in the ass this crazy experience will be without any suggestion she should join you. She offered too eagerly. Maybe you will look into it later. Now you have to stay focused so you can be out of here in no time. It’s a lot of people around. You didn't expect something so pathetic as women's football attracts so much attention. Hell, Freddy would love it here. But you couldn't take him. If your parents would find out, they would undoubtedly disgrace you both. Enough of such thoughts you decide and pull out the camera. Hopefully, you’ll take some good shots quickly and be gone. The players are warming up except the two of them at the far side of the pitch. You focus your camera on those and recognise the wench who is responsible for your presence in this miserable place. The situation is useless for shooting but provides enough of a dramatic effect anyway. They are fighting. Or more like the shorter one _(somehow familiar to you, from school perhaps_ ) is angry and shouting at wench. Her attempts to defend herself are lame. Figures. Eventually, she resigns, leaves the pitch and disappears inside the stadium. What a wanker. Fortunately, you took some xanax before, so this whole bullshit should be only mildly annoying. You barely register Taylor speaking about some nobody sitting in the first row. Steff or something. She saw them hugging tightly so she ponders if Steff is wench’s girlfriend and you ponder why she cares or why should you. There is no way the football wanker is capable of caring for someone else than herself, anyway. In the meantime Price bitch is back and for a change having a heated conversation with the really passionate middle-aged guy, probably the coach. After some weird ceremonies game finally starts. You only know a little about this silly sport, though she is a captain for sure. How incompetent the management must be when making 19 years old brat a leader of the senior team is the first thought that occurs, but as the match progresses, it's becoming clear even her useless punk self is outstanding comparing to the rest of her lame teammates. Bochum is crushing them a ship captain looks like she could use some xanax too but it's  none of your business. It's almost delightful to see her suffer. You expect amazing pictures. But one event is not enough. If you want to win the contest, you need to convince her to cooperate, to stay. You need more shots.The best way how to make low lifes like Price trash to obey is to give them an illusion it is their decision, their idea to do something you want. And of course, also adding a small hint you can relate to their irrelevant issues. The first half is over and home team two goals down. The hardest challenge in your life is about to begin.

 

**Sunday, October 13, 2013,**

**11:46 am., Orsay Stadium, playfield, Willstätt, Germany,**

**SC Sand vs Vfl Bochum, 2nd Frauen Bundesliga**

Today supposed to be your farewell but it’s a complete disaster. First Dana was giving you a hard time about Trevor being heartbroken because of your planned departure. With her around, if he didn't know he would not even notice you’re gone. Then coach preaching about how the team needs you. Fuck him. You are only fucking 19, you should never accept captain's armband. Your teammates showing the worst performance ever is just an added bonus to the whole craziness. Even freaking Steph is acting like you’re going to die or something. You are friends, and she is badass, she was supposed to say something like go and rock in Berlin, Chloe not losing her shits and give you a crushing hug with pathetic _I'll miss you_. From all of the sudden, you are the most popular chick in the whole universe. Where the hell all these people were two years ago when you were down? _Fuck it. Fuck them._ You’re not staying. Not a chance. Tomorrow you’ll be gone. On the top of everything the queen bitch herself, the source of all things twisted and evil has dared to show up and take pictures of you. You are leaving the pitch for the halftime break with a plan to stop by the stands and tell her to fuck off or break her nose. You are good at it. She has no right to be here. You’ve been noticed, and if this were a video game or anime, your surrounding would change to a battle arena where you'd fight to the death. Unfortunately, If you don't plan to get arrested words are going to be designated weapons. When she’s in a reach, you realise you loathe her so much there is no proper word to describe the feeling of disgust you've harboured.

“It's so easy, isn't it? To meet everyone expectations.” That's what she says, her voice hardened by sarcasm. What the fuck? She knows nothing about meeting anyone’s expectations, she's just the rich bitch.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Facing the task I was given. Unlike you, I’m not the fucking coward who shits her pants in front of the petty obstacle. ”

“How dare you? You bitch!” This wacko will not spill her poison in here for another second. This is the football stadium, your home ground. You want to grab her and pull her out or maybe beat the shit out of her, but someone's arms clench you from behind.

“Let it go, Chloe. She's not worthy. Let it go!” You'd easily outmatched your brother's girlfriend and your teammate at the same person, you’re taller and stronger, but in the meantime, Trevor jumps over the stands and joins the mission _Stop Chloe from killing Victoria._

In the locker room, you zone out just sitting on the bench, your brain working on the plan.

“Chloe, just say yes or no. Will you be able to play?” You finally revive.

“Fuck yes, coach. I'm ready.” He must be insane when put so much trust in you. And you must be equally crazy because you are going to show him that trust is well-earned. You are going to stay, you are going to win this game. But not because of Victoria Chase. Despite her.

“Then let's show some hustle and next time watch the language!” Fuck. You will never watch the language, but you're definitely in a rush to be back on the field. You have to work your ass off but when you’ve accepted the possibility to stay to deal with a heartless bitch in the way she'd never expect it freed you.

_“You can't predict how people will act. But you can control how you’ll respond. In the end, that's what really matters.”_ Dad’s words resonate in your head and you know he was right again.

In the end, your team wins 3:2 with you playing no small part in it. Your sluggish teammates finally understood that it's better to play properly than hear you constantly swear and yell at them. You haven’t looked to the stands once, you don't care if she's there or not, you don't care about her at all. And the truce you’re planning to offer is you being the best person you can be. Nothing more. You are going to kill her with kindness. Well, limited kindness, you should not get ahead yourself. Yet, you bet she won't be able to stand it.

 

***

Next day before physics, you intend to stop by the photography classroom. On your way, you bump into principal Kellerman. He looks like he could burst.

“It's good to see you, Chloe.” _Fuck yeah, it is._ You don’t say that though.

“I wish I could say Mr Kellerman likewise, but someone could assume I’m a fucking asslicker.” You give him a genuine smile and proceed.

“The language, Chloe, the language.” He shouts. Fuck the language. These oblivious adults should just get used to that. There are some things in this world, that will never change. Morpheus knew long ago. Although some things do change. You see her and know what has to be done.

“Hey.” Jeez, it's quite difficult to not say _Hey bitch,_ you realise. She seems stunned.

“I was thinking, we are task partners now, we are supposed to team up or something. What about spending some time together then.  Plan our schedule, know each other a bit. Just let me know when you're ready.” With that, you leave her hanging. If you knew the kindness has such agonising effect on her, you'd definitely used it more often.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There are some things in this world, that will never change,_ is what Morpheus told to Captain Niobe in Matrix Reloaded (2003) when she was eager to dance with him and remarked she remember when he used to dance. _Some things do change,_ he added when the new boyfriend of Captain Niobe showed up subsequently.


	5. The girl who has been mistaken

**Tuesday, October 15, 2013,**

**5:47 pm., Orsay Stadium, training grounds, Willstätt, Germany,**

_What are you doing here, Victoria? What the fuck are you doing here?_

You squeeze the steering wheel of your silver Audi tightly and take a deep breath.That little football bitch...well, more like quite tall football bitch finally shows up in front of the training facility. She wore sportswear for two hours, and she has just changed to another sportswear. It's not only outrageous. It’s double outrageous. How can someone with such a beautiful figure commit such a crime of fashion? Every cell in your body is telling you to leave. It would be so easy to do so. But if you leave now, you’ll only feel a small relief for a short period. Other, non-easy way is to hold on for six weeks. Go against all the odds and make eight great shots of this pathetic creature. It's only six weeks. Maybe it won't even take that long. It's nothing comparing to all those years you spent with Duchess von Liechtenstein and CEO Chase. You've already decided. You are so firm and enthusiastic about your decision you almost hit her. The expression she makes is priceless. Literally. You move the car a bit and roll down the window.

“Get in the car.” It's hilarious. She wants to be angry, but it's obvious you have thrown her off balance.

“You almost hit me, bitch!” You want to laugh. If you were friends, this would be such a funny prank.

“Don't be overdramatic and get in the car.” But you are less than nothing. It means no laughing. You have to stay serious.

“I would rather walk on glass than enter that environment polluter.”

“Oh dear Lord, why are you punishing me? You said earlier it would be easier to work together if we get to know each other a bit. So would you kindly not act like an idiot for once and get in the car, so we can grab a coffee or whatever you jocks are drinking.” Maybe you should just hit her and load her.

“Well, since you ask nicely. But I'll pick the music.”

 _“Merde!_ Fine, if it makes you get in and shut up for at least a minute.” Yeah, you definitely should hit her.

She hops in because who could possibly resist your request. But that dummy acts like 13 years old and browse the radio stations frantically. Well what else you expected, anyway.

“You do realise, you don't find a station broadcasting that senseless punk rubbish or whatever you are normally listening. So bring your borderline personality disorder under control and finally pick something, will you?”

“It's amazing isn't it how great we get along? I smell flourishing friendship.” Little tall bitch. She thinks she can ground you. She wishes. You'll give her 30 seconds and 3 more breaths till you crush her. Before you could, she finally picks the station. Or more like a song.

Dido is singing _I won't go, I won't sleep I can't breathe Until you're resting here with me_ and she looks like a lost kitten. Oh, fuck her. She's done. How does she dare to be done without your interference? This is so unfair. Despite everything you know what they say It doesn't matter how much you want to continue riding beating a dead horse is not going to get you anywhere.

“This is the last thing I would imagine you'd like” It really surprised you but if you cannot mock her it doesn't mean you should be kind to her, does it?

You almost come to the conclusion she will not bother to say anything when she replies quietly. “Young Dido is hot. And I like the song. It reminds me of… ...things.”

Damn why you started with it? You really don’t care. At least she is neither browsing nor talking anymore.

You could take her to some fancy cafe and make her feel uncomfortable but what if she’ll decide to act like a moron and humiliate you. Starbucks in Strasbourg will do. So you just head in there. She doesn't seem to mind, first. She doesn't seem to be present at all.

“Are you coming or what?” You snap after she is not showing any intention to leave the parked car.

“Fuck it, Chase. _Starfucks_? Really. This is not how you impress the girl. Unless she’s a  part of the plastic crew.” Her lousy existence is finally moving, and you wonder how much you are going to regret this.

“Oh sorry, my bad. I should have known little punk will be unsettled somewhere else than greasy fast food or dark sinkhole filled with an unintelligible swarm of noises.”

“Whatever. I want Fritz-Kola. And something to eat. Salmon Sandwich perhaps. I deserve it. Training was a killer.”

“Fritz what? This is a coffee house for fuck sake. They offer coffee!”

She ignores you and enters the house sits down and puts the hoodie on. You want to slap that bitch. Instead, you unconsciously reach for the camera in your bag evaluate the colour and contrast produced by inner lamps and choose the right settings. You only need one click for the great shot. When you bring your order without Fritz anything, she is in the same position with the same despondent expression.

“I’ll bet you’ve poisoned it.” It’s all she says before taking a big bite. You wish you had. This is excruciating. Smug and snarky Price is pathetic, but at least it's a fun challenge sometimes to bicker with her. This gloomy shadow is ridiculous. You groan and intend to take a sip of your coffee, but your ringing phone stops the action. You adjust to French in no time. The phone call is quick and leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

“I have to go. It’s a shame because this was real _fun_.” You leave her surprised and head back to the car. Before you can start the engine, you're not alone.

“What a fuck Price? Get out!”

“We are supposed to spend time together, remember? So I’m going with you.”

“Suddenly you want to socialise? Guess what Kari, if you want to impress the girl you have to show more than erratic radio stations browsing or weird silence. Besides I need to be somewhere.”

“It’s Chl… Whatever. Take me with you. I am dying to meet your French lover. Does your boyfriend know you're cheating on him?”

“Shut up and be gone.”

“Savage Victoria Chase. Who would have guessed?”

“Fine. Stay. But at least don't talk. You understand nothing. I have to take care of something, and then I’ll take you to the train station.” Or maybe you just use the pepper spray in your purse and get rid of this annoying trash already.

**Tuesday, October 15, 2013,**

**6:39 pm., Empty parking place, Strasbourg, France**

Victoria the bitch stops the engine and orders you to stay in the car. She can dream. You are not quite sure why you agreed to come with her, but now you want to enjoy the show. Some love triangle drama. You are dying to know who this French lover of hers might be. Her shithead boyfriend Nathan won’t be happy once back from rehab finding out she is cheating on him with a French dildo. The whole issue occupies her that much she even drops the effort to stop you from following her. When you enter the building, it's not what you expected. It's not a gallery nor a fancy photo studio. Is it a school, you wonder? Not long though your suspicion is proved correct when you turn a corner and a young lad in school uniform accompanied by a dead-serious person with malevolent look probably teacher run towards Victoria and jumps on her. She smiles and kisses him on the forehead. You’ve never seen her smile. To mock. Milion times but never smile. They exchange a couple of words in French, and she turns to you. Suddenly it's utterly different person.

“Stay away from him, or I'll kill you. I’m not joking.” The Chase bitch you know. She nudges you backwards and disappears into the classroom with Miss _I would enjoy eating my pupils_. The young lad in considerable distance stares at you like you were a rare gemstone. It shouldn't be so, but still, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.

“You play for SC Sand.” He must recognise your team hoodie. You nod.

“You’re Chloe Price, the youngest captain in club history, aren't you?” The tone of his voice overflows with excitement.

“One and only. Are you a fan? Do you attend games?“

“I wish. Just once. Only saw vids on team fb page. You are amazing.” You can tell he really means it. It makes you warm.

“Why don't you come to the stadium sometimes? And maybe we can practise a bit after the game.”

“I’d like to. I do. My parents won't allow me to participate in something so inferior though. I was recommended to play polo instead, but since the last year accident, I feel a bit unsettled in the proximity of horses. So I was allowed to quit. With my allergy to the fabric that fencing gear is made of It was decided playing the piano and studying dying german dialects will be the best extracurricular activities for me. Like Swabian or Alemannic. So much _fun_.”

The word fun has never sounded so painful. You’ve never heard about anything so offensive like studying Swabian dialect as an extracurricular activity.

“Are you allowed to have a little kick off with a tennis ball when no one's watching?”

His genuine smile gives you a straight answer. You dig into the hoodie pocket and find a little yellow ball. You always have it around it's an excellent anti-stress gadget. Nothing is more relaxing than sitting on the floor and annoy the others with the ball hitting the wall. Having a little fun with him is nice. Real fun not studying Swabian dialect kind of fun. Without getting close, you are passing the ball, and he talks mostly till you listen. First, he gets excited about every goal you scored or assisted this season and analyses them thoroughly. After he finally tells you his name he also describes an amazing person named Victoria who happens to be his older sister. That doesn't fit much with the knowledge you have.  Doesn’t matter there is no way you have been mistaken about her. When talking about his parents _(he calls them Duchess and CEO)_  the beaming happiness is replaced with regret.

“So let me get this clear? You are German nobility with a great estate near Bodensee but you live in Strasbourg and mostly speak French at home?” First of all, Victoria is not only a bitch, but she is also the royal bitch. You have to laugh hard inside. Second of all the sanest person from her family is probably this youngster.

“The Duchess, my mother she is an artist. She says her artistic integrity can strengthen and blossom only when she’ll fully embrace...actually, I have no idea what but for now only anything French could provide the whole blooming thing. We also lived in Japan, Lebanon and Russia. Strassburg is actually not that bad.” Shit, you feel incredibly sorry for this little guy.

There is no wonder Victoria is a psychopath when her mother has to embrace some French artistic integrity and force her son to study Swabian dialect at the same time. He seems as much confused as you are so you rather go back to less insane topics. Like football. When you miss his pass and are about to turn and chase the ball someone else has already possessed it. She only stares at you. It's not an angry gaze nor bitchy one. It's nothing in her eyes. For the moment you think this is how the contract killers look like before ending their target. Not a single emotion.

“I'll drive you to the train station.” She hands you the small sphere and makes a gesture towards Freddy.

“Come Swabian decoder. You must be starving.”

You are heading to the car and think this afternoon cannot be any more unusual. When Freddy asks Victoria if you could join them you stop assuming things like that. She has that look of nothingness again.

“If she wants.”

Is it that what you want? You have no idea, but you say yes anyway. And for some reason, you are not done with the foolishness, yet. Inside the car, they have a small talk about how their cook ended in the hospital with a broken leg so it means no homemade dinner for tonight and how the Duchess, yes they are still calling their mother Duchess couldn't pick Freddy tonight because she is out of town. He suggests Italian restaurant because he is yearning for lasagna. You suggest you can cook instead. It just slips out. Whatever, you can act like it never happened because the contract killer will never allow you to enter her house.

“Fuck it. Why not.” She smirks.

Fuck her. Now you can't chicken out. She would win. _Damn, Chloe what you got yourself into?_ You only see a top of it when the car goes through a monumental gate and across the courtyard of a house that's bigger than a football pitch. Victoria parks the car in the garage that could belong to Bruce Wayne according to so many unique vehicles in here. Only batmobile is missing. But BMW s 1000 RR motorbike with blazefire saber pattern definitely is an accurate substitute. Somehow you cannot imagine CEO Chase riding it. _Who else then?_ Butler named Albert greets you, and you realise that more pressing matters then BMW s 1000RR driver lie ahead.

**Tuesday, October 15, 2013,**

**9:39 pm., Chase Manor, Strasbourg, France**

You must be crazy to let her in. But somehow the presence of lowlife like her in your parent's house pleases you. It would piss them. And they would probably call the police so double pleasure. You almost wish they show up out of nowhere even if it's not happening. The Duchess is in Milan and CEO well somewhere overseas. And football wench Price in their pristine kitchen. Freddy is already enjoying bruschettas she has made settled in the smallest of three living rooms, and now she is about to pull lasagna out of the oven.

“Wouldn't consider you can do anything else than pointlessly kick the ball.” You thought she would squirm in this darkest place, but she is doing unexpectedly good. Every time you checked on her she was moving swiftly, smoothly. You took some pics even but when she realised you were shooting she stiffened weirdly so they probably will be no use anyway.

“My mum is a cook. She tried her best through years to help me master her outstanding skill.” Says she like it’s the most mundane thing in the world, mother teaching her daughter to cook.

“Point for you Nigella Lawson faker. I guess it's a universal rule. My mother is a heartless bitch.” The words depart your mouth without realising they were said loud not only in your head.

“Plates are on the counter next to you. If you find a living room in the east wing, you can eat with us.” A response to that sneaky line is definitely out of her league, so you don’t wait for it and leave.

Maybe you should have a cigarette.  Or LSD. Or perhaps you should just hang out with Freddy and eat lasagna. If Nigella Price finds her way through the house. Unconsciously, you take a detour end up in the library and have some shots of Jack. CEO doesn't know such a cheap whiskey is stashed in there but those smoked or 37 years old superior liquors are too much for you. You didn't realise Jack's party lasted so long, but once when you have finally passed the insane distance from kitchen to the room where your bro is stuck to the couch ogling the tv screen, lasagna and Price are already there. When you introduced him to anime world, you didn't expect he would fall for something so preposterous as Mai-HiME. Fullmetal Alchemist, definitely. Death note probably but Mai-HiME? Fuck no. But who are you to tell him what he should enjoy and what not. Price the pathetic bitch doesn't seem to mind sitting right next to him watching.

“So you know, when your child, your mechanical mount is killed your significant other will vanish.” He tries to explain to her. She nods. Is it possible she's already seen this?

“So I guess Victoria's child could be something like Shizuru’s kiyohime, hydra. Because she is the most powerful one so of course the most important person, which is me, will not vanish,  right Vic?”

“Don't you ever dare to think otherwise Freddy. But I prefer Cheshire cat as my child if you don’t mind.” You squeeze his arm and join the fat cat on the armchair’s, who‘s not particularly happy about that.

“And maybe now when our guest finished her job and made you lasagna we could release her. I‘ll bet she has places to be people to see.” You want her gone because today was a long day and you start to be tired of being a bitch.

“Well if that's so thank you, Chloe, for a great evening but before you leave, please share about your child or your most important person.”

“Actually, I am in no rush.”

Jerk. She is so annoying. You need to shift your raging emotions elsewhere if not planning to do something reckless. To cat’s pleasure, you walk out form the chair and move to the piano in the corner. So much hated instrument. Your fingers leave a soft trail on it. The Duchess forced you to play for years even when it was clear you have no ear for music. You try to focus on those unpleasant memories and ignore anything that Price says or does.

“So I guess the animal would be Crow. Or Raven, perhaps. Crow is already taken by April Ryan. But frankly, I’ve never known the difference. And the person, definitely Max.”

“Max?”  Asks Freddy. _Max._

“Ahem...a friend of mine. We used to be close when I lived in Berlin. Unfortunately, we drifted.”

 _Now you know. Max is the person who Price_ _won't go, she is the reason Price won't sleep and can't breathe until Max is resting there with her._ You already hate this Max. Because why not? She’s probably the same useless piece of shit as Price the bitch. Yeah, there is no other reason why you'd hate her, you're sure of it. You will not see the end of this episode of Mai-HiME and don’t have to ignore their conversation anymore because your phone rings. You go to the patio and pick up the call. It's no surprise the words of Duchess do not make any sense to you. Only piss you more. You hold the decorum, however. When you are back in the living room, you almost forget some Price trash still could be there. But she is. And your lil bro isn’t.

“Where is Freddy?”

“I carried him to the bed. He was falling asleep. It was no easy task tough in this enormous maze.” So this bitch took care of Freddster, and in the process, she lost her hoodie somewhere in the Chase manor because now she only wears some ridiculously hot lezzie tank top.

“Why are you still here?” You suggested she should be gone a long time ago. She should obey.

“I wanted to say goodnight.” She must be fucking kidding. Bitch.

“Goodnight. Now be gone.” Your hand shows her where she will be in no time when pointing towards the exit.

“You look distracted Victoria. Is everything ok?” But she doesn't move.

“I’m fucking fine. And you can save your fake concerns wanker, we are not friends or anything.”

“So? Is it forbidden for non-friends persons to notice something is bothering you?” That little shit has no right to be kind to you, to see through you. Fortunately, the Duchess intervenes and your phone beeps. You response and make sure Price is going to leave soon because she cannot linger. Not in the world.

“I called you an uber. It's already paid so you can go wherever you want to. Optimally anywhere but here.” You wish you haven't had so many shots of Jack.

“Of course. Everywhere is better than here. Still, it was a nice evening.” She leans on and fucking hugs you. For a moment your bodies are pressed together. When parted you can tell it's as much disturbing for her as it is for you.

“You have exactly 5 seconds Price before I call the police and accuse you of trespassing.” You cannot bear another second in her presence.

“Whatever. Bye, bitch.”

 

Thank fuck she is finally gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song played in car is [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSu5nAQ7uZw)
> 
> Even when the game is entirely different, playing LIS and BTS somehow reminded me of The longest journey and Dreamfall. Especially of April Ryan. She’s mix of Chloe & Max. Kind of. So she deserved an honourable mention. :)


	6. The girl who won't play by the rules

**Friday, October 18, 2013,**

**5:47 pm., Orsay Stadium, training grounds, Willstätt, Germany,**

Chloe Price is a real wanker. For this time she outperforms herself in the worst possible way. She replaced her usual filthy tracksuit and the hooded top with ripped jeans and revolting leather jacket. You cannot even name that ridiculous thing on her head. She is going to be pissed when figures out that little effort of hers were in vain, and she is not going to attend some shitty band gig tonight. It pleases you.

“Get in the car.” You are becoming good at this. Almost hitting her at stadium parking lot.

“Go fuck yourself.” She slides down from a skateboard and looks even more furious than last time.

“For fuck sake Price, get in the car.” She acts as if she had a choice.

“Wanna hang out with me, learn how to walk.” How can she suppose you wanna hang out with her, it's beyond you.

“I let you pick the music.” But you need her to cooperate.

“And at the end of the day, you will threaten me to call the police for trespassing.” Yeah, it's a viable option. Depends on how high her level of idiocy will be. But she doesn't need to know that. She only needs to get in the car.

“The car. Now.”

“Zero fucks. Now.” The middle finger she shows you is long and slim, and you have no idea why you noticed nor why you shuddered after this realisation.

“I have two tickets to tonight game Hoffenheim vs Leverkusen.”

“I’m not your bitch, bitch. You cannot bribe me. I will not go with you. Not now, Not later not...”

“Of course you won’t go with me. I hate football. You are going with Freddy.” You’re really losing patience with her stupidity.

“Oh.”

“So would you kindly stop being an idiot and get in the car.” It doesn't surprise you she can't. Because she is an endless idiot. So she just stands there staring at you like a retard.

“Fucking hell, Price. My disapproval and disgust with you are so pure and sincere I would never ever want anything from you. But he will burst with happiness if you’ll go with him. It's a fair deal. You have a free ride, free ticket to the game you totally want to see and the amazing company is granted. If you’re going to pass you are nuts.”

“Fine. But I'm not doing this for you.” You want to thank all gods because she finally put her board in the trunk and enters the car. The desired satisfaction makes you greedy for more.

“I would rather be maimed and tortured and rot in a nameless grave than live in the world where you are doing something for me. So I guess it settles then.”

"You are so fucked up.”

“Tell me something I don't know.” But she doesn't say anything. Before she can reach the radio, you lean across her an open a glove box. The scent of her freshly washed hair causes unexpected pleasure. It's mildly disturbing. You quickly shun it.

“I suppose your outdated piece of a crap battery will die in no time if you use Bluetooth. So there is an auxiliary cable in the glove box.” You feel her fiery eyes on you but don't turn her way instead focus on driving.

"What? If you are not interested, we can listen to Mahler's Songs of a wayfarer. Just say a word.” Yesterday when you were planning this evening you sought Albert and asked if something like auxiliary cable could be found in the lair of wealth also known as your home. He brought you one. When you think about it now, you cannot explain why some stupid cable was so important from all of the sudden.

 “You asked for this, asshole.” She plugs the phone into the radio, and squealing electric guitars in combination with heavy drums almost kill you. Some angry muckraker with weird accent sings:

 

_Why do they always send the poor?_

_Barbarisms by Barbaras_

_With pointed heels._

_Victorious, victories kneel._

_For brand new spankin' deals._

_Marching forward hypocritic_

_And hypnotic computers._

_You depend on our protection,_

_Yet you feed us lies from the table cloth._

 

The Lyrics don't make any sense to you. Probably you really asked for this. You should either hate her on full force or stop seeking her.

She keeps annoying you with her lousy music till you pick Freddy. He is hyperventilating. Damn. You knew this will make him happy but not this much. They are spending most of the ride talking about how billionaire's Dietmar Hopp financial support transformed Hoffenheim from a local amateur club into a competitive Bundesliga team. They cannot come to a conclusion if it's a wrong approach because of club’s lack of tradition and a proper fan base or if it doesn't matter because what matters is genuine interest for developing the game. Especially Price the football freak is conflicted. She praises Hoffenheim for supporting the women's team considerably, on the other hand, she would prefer the fair competition where women's teams were financially stable enough without men’s team support. Duchess and CEO would crucify you if they knew Freddy is going to see the football game not to mention being involved in the discussion about how some billionaire spent the fortune to build a professional football club in the middle of nowhere. The stroke will hit them with deadly force if they realise someone invested millions in football club rather than buying Pollock's No. 5. Finding a parking place in front of the football stadium is a pain in the ass, but in the end, you’re successful as always. You have sources you were able to obtain two tickets to business club seats without leaving a trace and told the Duchess a ballet is a program for tonight. You have three tickets actually even when it’s has been clear from the beginning you are not going with them. Football is revolting so is Price. No need to stay in her presence longer than absolutely necessary. You have one last surprise for your little brother before he can continue his big adventure.You tell him to check the paper bag on the back seat. It's Hoffenheim jersey with his name and team scarf. You expected he would do something crazy but not as crazy as crawling from back to front squeezing you in happiness almost kicking Price the bitch in the head. So funny. You suggest he should get out of the car and put the jersey on. When alone you handle her an envelope with tickets with an intention to put her on the line.

“Don’t.”  Instead, she snatches the package and shuts you down. _Bitch_.

You are the last one who exits the car. When out you adjust Freddie’s scarf then pull him closer.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn't do Fredster and enjoy the game. I’ll be waiting here.” He laughs because you would never enjoy the game.

“Well except for that one thing. That one you are allowed to.” You smile back and kiss his forehead.

“Thanks, Vicky.” He hugs you tightly and runs towards Price.

You move to the trunk open it and fight the urge to throw the filthy board away but rather grab a camera bag because you’ve noticed Freddie doing his favourite stunt jumping on people's back. The light is miserable too many shadows in here, yet you cannot stop yourself and make a few shots. When they disappear into the crowd, you take a laptop too and close the trunk. For two hours you are stuck in this place. A good time for being productive. Back in the car you download all photos from the camera and starts to edit them. The tall football bitch is not as bad as expected. She has a beautiful body, and your skills are good enough to suppress her nasty personality. The problem is, once she realises someone is taking pictures of her she's done. At least one pic from the set has to be her posing for a photographer, knowing she is being captured. It seems impossible for now. Fuck. You growl in frustration.  Doesn’t matter. You will figure this out. You have to. Even if it means you won't play by the rules. Failure is not an option.

  

**Friday, October 18, 2013,**

**9:47 pm., Wirsol Rhein-Neckar-Arena, Sinsheim, Germany**

**TSG 1899 Hoffenheim vs Bayern Leverkusen, Men’s Bundesliga**

 Victoria Chase is a real wanker. A psychopath. You’ve already made a deal with yourself to participate in this crazy task so you’ll finish it. Nevertheless you never understood what's her real agenda and with getting to know her, it's becoming more and more confusing to see through, to figure out what she wants. This is the last time you’ve been drawn into her crazy games. And you agreed only because attending the Bundesliga game with Freddy is quite enjoyable. He is super excited about the whole trip. So pure in showing the positive emotions so easy to hang out with. It seems almost impossible he and Victoria bitch are siblings. So yeah being here in this impressive stadium is amazing but seeing him happy is somehow even better. You held him in check couple of times because he would burst. For the last ten minutes, he is sitting in silence with eyes solely focused on the pitch. You guess the over excitement tired him a bit. But when he speaks again, he does not sound tired at all.

“So do you love Max? As Shizuru loved Natsuki.” He uses the reference from Mai-HiME, and it immediately makes you think he doesn’t know much about romantic love.

"Well… not in a creepy way but I guess you are asking if…”

“If you are in love with her. Yes.”

“I... Why do you want to know, Freddy?”

“Maybe you are stuck in the past and cannot see new opportunities. Maybe there is already someone out there who tries to gain your attention, but you cannot see it because you're stuck with Max who shut you down.”

“It's not that easy, buddy. Me and Max, we have so much history. We drifted but… There is no one else in this world who knows me as she does. Every flaw, every finesse. Only she can see…”

“That's where you wrong.”

“Look, Freddy, I don't want to preach, but I guess you are too young to understand.”

Fuck. It’s not even about being or not being in love with Max. Nothing really happened between you two, and you only started to ponder about this love thing after you moved from Berlin. So you didn’t lose her as a lover because you never had her as one. But you lost a friend. And that’s the point. You have no closure. What could you possibly did that Max has become so distant and doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? You cannot even think about falling in love with someone, anyway. You obviously totally suck as a friend, so how can you be someone’s girlfriend?

“Maybe you're too stuck in the past to move on.” And now he reminds you of Victoria.

“Damn. You Chases or whatever royals are so full of yourself, don´t you?”

“It's not that. We have to be cocky by default at the same time we are heavily damaged of course, who wouldn't be under such influence but it doesn't mean our parents broke us bend us to their will. Vic has her ways how to make it through, how to survive. She taught me.”

“She taught you how to mock people's attitude?

“She taught me how much it means to care about someone else.”

_I doubt that_ you want to blurt but bit your lips instead. Maybe he meant well, but it has pissed you anyway. He knows nothing about you or Max or what you have. Had. Fuck. At least the game is entertaining enough to distract you from thinking about what he said.

“I’m sorry Chloe. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He seems genuinely concerned.

“It's ok Freddy. But rather not speak about Max again.” You would be damned if took advice from 13 years old.

“But you can tell me who is this secret person admiring me from afar.” You hope it's not his beloved sister. It would be worse than worst nightmare.

“Well let's just say, they are not that far.” He shyly points a finger towards himself, and you blush. It's not like you are not used to people crush on you, especially girls. It still surprises you, but football skills and punk attitude is appealing to some recently. Mostly those who are not Max. No one of this people was six years younger lad who happens to be Victoria, the bitch little brother. No Fucking way. If she knew, she’d excruciatingly kill you.

“Look, I am flattered I really am but…” Shit, you have no idea how to make this right.

“Don't worry. I am not stupid. I do realise I am a whelp comparing to established football star like you. With a long way ahead of you getting over M… ...ahem. Getting on the top of your football career, ” He scopes your face trying to catch a hint of anger. There is none. “I have plenty of time to work on self-improving learning some more schwabisch dialect perhaps and waiting for my chance. And maybe when I am adult, anything could happen.”

Of course, you know nothing will ever happen. And you are no fan of _the end justifies the means_ approach but if the little false hope makes him happy makes him going you see no harm in it.

“Alright, I will reconsider my decision once when you're an adult just, please don't say anything to Victoria.”

“Why not?” _Is he really asking?_ Your pure animosity must be palpable to any living creature around immediately.

“I would rather not go into details, but she might kill me if she knew.” You are thinking about different ways how to explain without telling him she's the heinous bitch, there is none though so you stick with the vague statement.

“Nah. She has very nice pictures of you. Killing you would mean losing a great subject.” Right. Now you feel better.

“Besides you're super cool I bet she likes you.” You don't say anything because it would have zero significance and enjoy the rest of the game.

 

***

The drive back is going well until Freddy mutes, and after a couple of minutes, you realise he fell asleep. It's at least a half hour back to Wilstätt, and it's becoming more and more awkward. You still cannot stand Victoria, on the contrary, you have seen the kind side of her, and it's confusing and actually, it's the last thing you should be thinking about.

“Is it me?” She interrupts your misery and cut the awkwardness.

“When you realise you are being photographed you become useless. Well, more useless than usual.” Oh, and you thought she is about to start a decent conversation.

“Is it because I am the photographer?” As much as you want to say yes..yes..yes..you bitch are an incompetent terrible photographer you know that's not the case. Someone taking pictures reminds you of Max and how much it annoyed you when she was doing that first but then you loved it, and she cannot do it anymore because she's in Berlin and you are not, and it's almost three years and Fuck. _Fuck._ No way the 13 years old boy was right. No fucking way.

“It's just not my thing.”

It has to be enough for her. You are not giving anything more. You rather sit in silence again, and it sucks even more because that bitch made you think about Max. When she stops in front of your house you unbuckle the belt and have no intention to look at her or interact in any way, just to be gone.

“Price,” says she and against your original plan your eyes meet hers, “thanks.

“Whatever.” It's the first time she's actually nice to you. _Awful timing Chase. Awful timing._ You think and leave the car.

“Don’t forget that piece of shit in my trunk. And wear the fucking helmet when you ride it for the love of the God.” Her reminder is useless, you would not leave your beloved board with her, and you don't give a shit about a helmet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song played in the car is B.Y.O.B. from System of a down. [This one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUzd9KyIDrM).


	7. The girl in the mirror

**Sunday, October 27, 2013,**

**4:17 pm., Orsay Stadium, Willstätt, Germany,**

Fuck. You’re drained, but the game against Crailsheim was a great success. It was only last season when your team promoted from the regional league, and now you’re shoulder to shoulder with Cologne, 4th largest city in Germany,  fighting for the spot in Bundesliga. You are so excited you forget that if some rich retard didn’t force your family to move from Berlin, you’d play the main women football competition for three years by now. As usual, after the home game, you are the last one who leaves dressing rooms. Maybe because you’re a captain and fan favourite _(weird)_ so there is always someone seeking for autograph or interview. Or maybe because you’re never in a rush, hurrying up to lil’ kids or romantic/sexual companions like your other teammates. Yeah, therefore it figures no one would probably give a fuck about you without the football jersey. Not that like you care about anything else than football or have ever been social anyway. The parking lot in front of the stadium is almost empty. You’re not surprised anymore when spotting silver Audi. Victoria the Bitch, at last, dropped that nasty habit of hers trying to hit you. She is leaning to the car, camera hanging from the neck, looking like this is the last place she wants to be. Well, fuck her, no one forced her to come, she made the decision. You bet she expects you to head towards her. As much as you care she can fuck off. You turn opposite way.

“Hey, Price! I’ll drive you home.” It’s not an offer nor a question just an overconfident statement. You turn and give her a middle finger. She was ready for it because she clicks that freaking machine and takes a picture. _Bitch._

“I’d like to drive you home if you’re cool with that.” The second attempt misses the arrogance. It reminds you of a similar scene that occurred a week ago.

You played away with Saarbrücken, and she showed up. She drove two hours only to do a photo shooting and then waited for you after the game. She tried that I’m-too-awesome-to-be-rejected attitude again but you were already fed up with it. Besides you had decided before, you’re done with her games. _Want me to join you, say it. Say you want my company, but it has to be sincere._ That’s what you told her.  You’d swear she rather dissolved her soft tissues in acid than use those words when talking to you. You turned away and had to grin at her miserable expression. And then she did what she was asked for. Coach released you without a second thought, but you definitely had second thoughts when got in the car. You were surprised with your own action so much, you didn’t think about pissing her with music at all. Instead, you asked why she hates football so much. Of course, the bitch answered the question with a question and asked you why you love it and how it’s possible that a lone wolf like you become a captain, a leader of a team. Two can play this game, you perceived, and without reply, you asked why she must be such an eternal bitch all the time, although she actually isn’t. You made no bones about your answer to her question being determined by her answering first. She looked at you angrily and accused you of being a prick who cannot have a civil conversation. You laughed and satisfied with your wit you accepted the truth that there never will be a civil conversation between you and the Queen bitch. When you settled deeper into the leather seat and were ready to take a nap, she started to talk. The tone of her voice was almost timid. She wondered how you are doing it with such ease. _To just exist._ Without a need to be anything to anybody. That statement made you sad because it didn’t seem like a good thing at first, but when she continued, you understood. She admitted she’s always been what were expected of her. Rich man ambitious daughter or royal bitch. The choices she has made are not really choices at all, she added but also dared you to visit some royal family dinner if you still feel like second guess her nature. _Your turn,_ she said, and since she was kind of straightforward, you did the same. Even if you never thought about your football story before you came to the conclusion it all started because you’ve always hated injustice, social one especially and recklessness was your second name. Everyone’s equal on the football pitch so when dad brought you to the first training he was proved right again. The desire to outmatch cocky opponents or chase that freaking ball actually helped to tame the wilderness in you a bit. And for the same reasons coach named you the captain a year ago. Because you always go hard and through years you replaced recklessness with fair play. At least on the pitch. Plus other players have always been kind of scared of your fierceness, so it’s better when you lead not follow. You are always expected to push it to the limits because you always do. In everything. So coach trusted you to be a strong leader somewhere deep down when you doubted everything about yourself. And so did your dad or principal Kellerman. They all had faith in you when you wanted nothing else than getting wasted. _You didn’t reveal that last part of your story though. The self-conscious, self-destructive one_. You kind of wanted. Anyway, surprisingly the rest of your conversation was indeed pretty civil and after she dropped you by your house, for the first time you didn’t feel relief when separated. You felt curiosity.

“I live next door. Almost literally.” Back in the present, you point out the obvious.

“So what? We have a deal, remember? We hang out and know each other more, and I take pictures. School grounds are out of the option. So I’m taking my chances elsewhere.”

And that’s another thing you don’t understand. She picked you from training session couple of times this week and even didn’t suffer when grabbing a snack with you but there is apparently some rule only she and her minions follow, and this rule forbids her to socialise with you in school or outside the cooperation on your task. If she would, she broke a social order or betrayed Regina George legacy or whatever. You hop in the car and notice Fritz Kola bottle in the cup holder. It waits for you no doubt.

“How do you know it’s not poisoned?” She joins you and starts the engine.

“I’m already immune to your poison, Victoria Chase.” You counter, and she smiles. Not smirk, not sneer but smile. It doesn’t last long, though and true to her nature she criticises your lazy dribbling and poor tackles. As is if she knew anything about dribbling or tackling. But she won’t deceive you anymore, it’s only a light-hearted tease. She stops in front of your house, and you are left to wonder if you feel disappointed because of forthcoming farewell.

“I should go.” You say but not accomplish.

“Why your parents never attend your games?” The question is unexpected but the intention to prolong your time together warmly welcome.

You explain how you’ve never held yourself back on the pitch. When you were twelve, you fell down after a reckless header, and your forearm suffered the open fracture. Nothing serious but it looked pretty nasty. Dad said mum fainted. She intended to keep you from playground forever, but when an initial excess of emotions faded, she understood it would be impossible. So if you couldn’t be stopped, she decided she at least never wants to see you heading for the open fracture again. Besides, if they are not around you can’t disappoint them, so you don’t mind.  You didn’t plan to reveal that little information about your own insecurities, but for this time, it kind of slipped.

“You’re an idiot, Price. Someone actually cares about you and with that stupid football infatuation you’re giving them such a hard time.”

It’s not her usual superior attitude, and it throws you off balance. You just stare at her in awe when someone knocks on the window. It’s your dad. Victoria lowers the window and receives an invitation to Price family dinner. She wavers but accepts, eventually. _Careful what you wish for, Chloe_ , you think. Because you’re not quite sure if this is what you had in mind when reluctant to part ways.

 

**Sunday, October 27, 2013,  
**

**4:49 pm., Price House, Willstätt, Germany,**

You feel like Alice, but your story is reversed. You left Wonderland and went through the rabbit hole to the real world. To the world without Duchess, without a pool of tears or mad tea party. When you accepted an invitation to a dinner you expected slightly annoying but bearable evening that’ll help you to get under Price’s skin and one step closer to the perfect shot. You expected to gain her trust through cunning and deception. But as it shows you’re only used to the twisted rules of the world on the other side, where all are mad. You cannot handle this one. And everything that’s happening here on the contrary with your prime belief is getting under your skin. When you entered the house your head spun. The place is repulsive was the first reflex, your first thought. But that was a reflex learnt, that’s what Duchess would think about a house without suitable artworks, a painting picked with utmost care or obscure half-naked young men sculpture. None of it can be found here. There is plenty of family pictures, though. The top of the artistic awareness is framed jersey with Price nametag on the living room wall and right next hanged skateboard with big T sprayed on it. These belong to Chloe the football freak and her brother Trevor, no doubt. Duchess would not exhibit your best photo in her estate, arguing it’s mediocre. Mr and Ms Price hanged the sweaty piece of rag and battered board on their wall. Except it’s not a piece of rag or wood for them. It’s something they’re proud of. You’ve only spent a short time in their house, but there is such an overwhelming experience. It holds so many traits that will never exist in Chase mansion. Warmth, kindness, liveliness. And after initial awkwardness, everyone is nice to you. Not phoney nice but real nice. Even when your reputation _(definitely not a good one)_ preceded you. You got that very quickly after entered the living room. Trevor’s question about what _that heinous bitch who almost made Chloe leave to Berlin_ is doing here sounded crude on purpose. He also pointed that only appropriate reason to bring you in is hate fuck, which can hardly work with a full house. Football freak jumped on him and pinned him down to the couch. _Bugger off, or I bang your girlfriend,_ that’s what she said laughing, and that was the last straw Miss Price needed to raise her voice. She threatened them to stay without dinner if keep acting like morons and heavily suggested they should behave. The pacifying effect was imminent. You felt the obligation to walk away in disgust but what you really wanted to do was burst into laughter. _Don’t mind them, they try to be cool and tough, but without food, they are only lost puppies._ Said miss Price and put her hand on your arm. Duchess would be outraged by her greying hair that should have been dyed weeks ago, shabby kitchen apron but mostly by her genuine kindheartedness. So yeah, so many mundane things have happened since your arrival, and you cannot be more confused about how you feel due to all this. You should probably retreat somewhere in the corner, plan a new strategy. Under the spell of this strange house, you offer help with dinner instead. _Really, clever Victoria._

“Don’t let her, mum. For your own sake. She’s probably anorectic and only saw the kitchen utensils in some photo or renaissance painting. She’ll either maim the food or herself.”

You take a deep breath and intend to ground the bitch, but you realise two silly things. First, you want Joyce Price to like you and using offensive language in her house would not help to accomplish it. Second, her daughter is fucking right. Not about anorexia but definitely about the kitchen.

“Well, Chloe I have no doubt you step in and kindly assist our guest, so no maiming is going to happen. You two can prepare a salad.” You can tell she’s very reluctant to work with you but stands up from the couch anyway and nudges you into the kitchen.

“Wait here.” She assigns you to the counter and plunges into the refrigerator. When back she has tons of veggies with her.

“Zucchini should be easy. Watch me.” She takes chopping board and knife then cut the zucchini in half.

“Don’t use this squishy part in the middle, just rid of it. Then do fine cuts not thicker than 2 millimetres. The last step is to create thin matchstick shapes. See?” You yearn to take a picture of her, but the camera bag stayed in the car. So you just stare and wonder how great it would be to capture her focus, her glossy moves.

“Holly shit, Chase! Are you even listening?”

“The swear jar, Chloe.” Mr Price shouts from the living room and draws you back to reality.

“F… Fine.” She shouts back and turns to you.

“I show you once more, but you owe the swear jar 1 Euro.”

“No, it’s ok, I get it.” Your mind wandered a bit, but you’re pretty sure you can cut a stupid zucchini.

“I’ll lead your hands.” She spats and you fail to stop her from standing behind you. You’re both quite tall, but she’s a bit in advance even, so her lips are right next to your ear.

“Just like this.” You feel her body lightly pressed against you, and she proceeds as promised. Her palms are softly wrapped around yours, and you follow subtle hints intuitively. But only after you’re not touching anymore because she stepped aside you realise how close she was and how you didn’t mind at all.

“It bears some ridiculous french name. The cutting technique.” She grabs another chopping board, knife and paprika and shows her skill. “I have no _fu.._ freaking clue which. Google it if you wish. You can write some fancy comment under one of your _shit…_ shiny Instagram food posts.”

She keeps talking, but it’s not about cutting technique anymore. She mentions vinegar and lemon juice and seasoning or dressing or some other total bulshits you can’t care less about and never expected she would. You are not able to muster enough mental effort to focus on chopping. That traitorous mind of yours has to ponder if she stalked you on social networks and also dares to make your skin burn where she touched it. _Damn it._ If you don't start to do something right away, you will look like an idiot. When you move, it takes three seconds to cut your finger.

“Holy Guacamole, Victoria! For mother of God, I knew this is going to happen. Shiit..ake mushrooms.” Suddenly she’s armed with a package of paper towels and trying to stop the bleeding. It’s definitely different than the chafe after you hit the tv screen. You actually bleed a lot.

“Don’t! Just friggin’ don’t look at it. _S_ ugar _H_ oney _I_ ced _T_ ea.”

She notices you are becoming dizzy and drags you somewhere. Her arm is firmly locked around your waist when you enter the bathroom. You curse yourself internally for being such a sloppy dumbass. Oh boy, but it’s nothing comparing to eternal swearing flow coming from her mouth. You need to add she sticks with using a well-mannered language, though. _Sorry, swear jar, no money for you._ She sits you on the toilet bowl and takes the first aid kit from vanity. There is a whole range of emotions on her face and in her words. She is mad at her mum to allow you near the kitchen, she’s angry with herself for giving you a knife and scolding her dad for not buying a piano instead of a new car because such a snobbish instrument would catch your attention, keep your fingers occupied and far away from being maimed. And she’s worried and tentative. It’s written all over her face. She slowly makes you stand again and cleans the wound in the sink  Her mouth is still working at full capacity, though. You are the last target of her turmoil. She is furious with you because you’re supposed to be a heartless conceited ice queen who is served not a polite, helpful guest who serves. When she’s about to bandage your finger the talking stops. This ignorant wench is giving you more attention and care than your family ever did, and it left you speechless too. It seems you’re both equally smitten with an unexpected turn of events, so you just stare at each other's reflection in the mirror after your wound is treated. Like there is some other world through the looking glass.

“Damn, Victoria.” She’s first who breach the silence, takes a step back till she reaches the wall and slides down to the floor.

“If mummy and daddy cut you from money and you expected to gain some by suing us for not being able to play the piano again, it won’t work. Only intellectual property is lying around.” _What’s the thing with the piano?_ She looks relieved. You spot the blood stains on her white shirt and don’t think long about sitting next to her.

“I can’t play the piano. I have no sense of rhythm whatsoever.” You finally say something and lean closer. No way you’re gonna miss this opportunity. You reach into her pocket and grab the cell. The camera on it must be archaic, but you have to take this pic. And you do.

“Are you f..reaking mad?” Something is telling you she doesn’t appreciate your actions.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe my reality is just different from yours.”

She takes back her phone. “Hey, I want that photo. It’s a perfect shot. I need it.”

Your needs are obviously not something she does give a shit about because she leaves you alone in the bathroom. There must be a way how to acquire that picture. It is amazing. Unfortunately, you have no idea where do you go from here. Not a slightest. That’s why you linger. Looking at your patched finger, you realise there are so many places Chloe Price touched that the burning sensation is spreading across your whole body. The stupid brain has to be numbed. You could use some booze. Or hate sex perhaps.

“Are you planning to camp here or what? Dinner’s ready.” Little tall bitch shows like nothing happened. You lift your uninjured hand and expect assistance.

“As far as I know your feet are perfectly functional.” She spats and slams the door. What a bitch! You stand up by yourself and heads back to the living room. Mrs Price asks you if everything’s ok. Nothing’s ok compared to your normal standards, but you give her a reassuring nod anyway and sit down at the table. The dinner with Price’s reveals some really unexpected facts. For example, spending time with family can actually be funny and relaxed, and Chloe Price can eat more food than anyone else you’ve ever met. Which is weird considering her super slim athletic figure. Despite everything, you feel more than welcome between these people and against original predictions you’re enjoying your stay. Mr Price asks you about your passion for photography, and you recount probably too eagerly. Duchess would scold you for losing decorum. Mrs Price is excited about your skills and reveals she and William will have a 20th wedding anniversary. They’d like to make some special photos and asks you for suggestions. Seeing them still so much in love after twenty years together you have plenty. Not everyone shares your enthusiasm, though.

“Since it’s Trevor’s turn to do the dishes, I have places to be. Have a nice evening everyone.” The football freak is apparently finally properly fed, so she’s about to leave. Your gaze stops her. You’re not sure what do you want from her or why you demand anything at all but leaving just like that seems inappropriate after the bathroom episode.

“When you’re done with photo chatter join me in my room, Victoria.” Her room is places to be. Figures.

“If you like. Or don’t. I don’t care.” She gives you a self-satisfied smirk and also rewards her brother who just mouthed something like _Hate Fuck_ , but with the middle finger.

“K.” You respond and get back to the conversation about wedding anniversary which surprisingly turns another way in the end. You’re so much at ease that talking about Chloe’s great performance and leadership qualities on the field come naturally. When finally head upstairs to join her, you don’t even realise you’ve done that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the whole chapter is a reference to Alice adventures in Wonderland, if you were wondering. If not, never mind :).


	8. The girl who did not become America's next top model

**Sunday, October 27, 2013,  
**

**7:47 pm., Price House, Willstätt, Germany,**

 

“I guess I should get used to it. It wouldn't be a proper day without some Price's next top secret revealed.”

Victoria stayed with your parents surprisingly long. You've almost finished watching the whole episode of America's next top model. She looked shocked when spotted you stuck to the laptop and realised what you’re doing. Without a word, she joined you on your bed, laid down next to you then took out a camera from the bag and browsed her newest pics or something. Maybe you should watch ANTM more often when she's around. Because it took her a good ten minutes to finally muster some decent pick up line. Or more like mock you line. Whatever.

“What do you want me to say? I like it. It's like crack. Everyone knows it's bad, but once you start with it, you just cannot stop.” You will not apologize for having a guilty pleasure. Even if it's something so horrendous as America's next top model.

“You would know a lot about crack, wouldn't you?”

Of course, you don't. Pot and alcohol was always enough for you during your take a walk on the wild side period. It was a metaphor. Artistic vigilante like Victoria Chase should know that. You will not waste your precious time to explain something so trivial. Instead, you make yourself comfortable and focus on the laptop again.

“This cycle is weak. It's the fourth time I am trying to watch it but haven't been able to make it beyond the second episode. Even fucking Jaeda or Anchale from seven with their lame expressions and whining were better than anyone in here. And Melrose or Dominique, I hated those but with a pure passion.  They were natural bitches. Comparing to them these pretentious pussies like Renee or Jaslene are dull, super fake. I cannot even feel pity towards them. They are not even good enough pretending to be bitchy. Everything about them screams fake. These girls couldn't make a connection with a camera even if their life depended on it.”

You have no idea when you've become relaxed enough around her to ramble like this. It's too late to take it back though. Her frowned expression makes you curse yourself. She even stops mingling with her mechanical mistress and puts it down.

“Oh, really Tyra wannabe? Are you even listening to yourself?” But you won't go down easily.

“Finally some original nickname. And excuse me but why should I? I already know what I want to say before I say it. That's the point of saying something, isn't?” That was a good line. You expect some funny bickering, but her tone is suddenly weird. Gloomy.

“You’ve almost sabotaged this. You still kind of do.” This should be a simple statement. Easy to comprehend. You suddenly become slightly confused about what she means by THIS, anyway.

“I thought you were plain obtuse or unattached, but you are obviously interested in photography at some point. It should be no trouble for you to work on this assignment.” Oh, THIS means this assignment.

“Do you really hate me so much that you rather leave your family than work with me?”

You have to be careful around this rich bitch. Why she would care about what you think of her out of the blue. It could be one of her games. You fully realise it, yet you cannot help yourself.

“I am working with you, ain’t I? I´m fucking trying, Vic. I do. Besides, this whole bullshit is about you, not about me and three weeks ago WE were less than nothing, so why should I be invested in your whatever back then.”

You hope you didn't sound too emotional. Two clicks of the extremely expensive camera throw you off balance and suggest otherwise. You didn't notice when she has grabbed that freaking machine once more. It wasn't easy to get used to being a subject of someone's pictures again, but she has never been so close as today, so you never admitted it's happening. Something vicious inside you, resentful orders you say hurtful things to her. You fight it. Partly.

“So it figures I cannot care less about photography or photographers, considering the whole top model infatuation my only interest is women's beauty.”

“You’ve just called the most important thing in my life bullshit. Splendid. Distinctive. Astonishing not so much. I should have…”

"Why are you saying those words? Why are you acting as you care?” She is fucking confusing. Does she want to mock you or is actually sad because of not enough warm approach from your side?

“What?”

“What's your fucking agenda Victoria? You despise me so much you cannot even say my name. You haven't done once. It's Chloe by the way. And suddenly you care about if I hate you or not.” What's wrong with her tonight? What's wrong with you?

“I have no agenda. Now spill your guts. Yes or No is enough of the answer. Do you hate me? Do you think the most important thing in my life is bullshit? Do you want me to leave?”

Is she fidgeting? Or is she toying with you? Probably the second. You will not give her a satisfaction she's craving for. She will not be acknowledged you’re becoming fond of her. Oh fuck. _What have you just thought? Woman up, Chloe!_ You are not one of her minions. No Stockholm syndrome Victoria Chase style. Not happening.

“You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you ever so much.”

She purses her lips, and her eyes scream defeated. She says nothing, pack her cam and stands up. Her moves are slow but resolute. The moment she takes the handle you jump from the bed and reach for her other hand but don't grasp it. Your fingers softly slide down brushing her skin causing the goosebumps. On your side and so on hers. She stops and so does your hand shortly before it could split. Your fingertips are still touching. She is not leaving anymore, she is not turning back though, and most importantly she is not separating her hand from yours.

“No. No. And No.”

It could take a minute or a light year, but you're the first who dares to speak. Then she faces you again. And smiles. It's very subtle, but her eyes only prove the feeling of joy is a lot less subtle inside her.

“And, surely you are dying to see who will be an America's next top model. You'll leave, and you'll never know.” Corners of your mouth go up too.

“You do realise this season is long over? So it's already known who won.”

“I told you I've never finished it. I couldn't stand the thought of Renee as a winner. I bet she won.”

“She didn't.” Her smile is fading.

“Thank fuck!” It's unknown to you why to say that. It doesn't even sound excited. Some super fake supermodel wannabe is none of your concern.

“She has come the long way to redemption, though. Unfinished but long. Through the competition and beyond it. Nevertheless, after the eviction, she completely lost it. She could not stand her own failure. She couldn't face the demons of the past, growing up with the abusive mentally unstable parents, struggling with her sexuality.”

This little information makes you feel conflicted, but the more disturbing fact is it may not be because of some miserable reality show contestant. And there is more to it.

“She plunged into a world of drugs and crimes and got arrested. Seems now she really is sorry for all the damage she has done.”

“Oh.” You unconsciously move your hand up and squeeze Victoria's shoulder. You feel stupid all at once. Despite everything, Victoria is a badass with style, nothing like pitiful convict as Renee.

“Taylor read in some silly magazine the other day. That's how I know. And for fuck sake, Price don't look at me the way I’ve just lost my kitty. I swear if you won’t stop I beat a shit out of you.”

“I'll enjoy seeing you try.” The good spirit is restored, and you cannot deny it makes you feel cheerful. She puts her camera bag down and playfully hits you on the chest. You accept the challenge push her towards the bed and starts the pillow fight.

“I am a pro athlete, and you are a skinny artist with the fatal finger injury. How do you think this will end?” You blurt after you dodged her attack.

“With you begging for mercy.” She strikes again and catches you by surprise. She is fierce and passionate. Still, it doesn't take long to realise she cannot stand a chance against you. Nevertheless, you let her win and end pinned down to the bed.

“Shame on you, Price.”  It seems your deception didn't go unnoticed.

“Maybe this ostensible moment of weakness works on your fangirls. Maybe it's the charitable thing to make them feel precious before you fuck and ditch them but for fuck sake don't ever go light on me.” You follow her suggestion and tables are turned quickly.

“Why? Do you like to be on the bottom?”

“You wish.” She bites her lips, and you definitely don't want to kiss her. Not in a million years.

“Nah. I really don't. Your boyfriend would probably hire an armada and tracks me down when he’ll realise I was much better than him on top. Sorry babe, even you are not worth that much trouble.” It's nice and funny and absolutely normal to tease each other. Friends do it all the time. Except you're not friends. You release the grip and turn your attention to the laptop.

“I don't feel like watching top model anymore. What about Blade Runner?” She doesn't say anything, so you just launch it, turn off the light and lay back next to her. It feels nice. It feels like it shouldn't feel. You decide you don't mind for a moment.

“I don't have a boyfriend.” She declares out of nowhere when Deckard enters Tyrell corporation for the first time. To your surprise, it's not only unexpected revelation for tonight.

“And I always feel like I have to overcompensate. For what, I have no clue. I only want to become a photographer, not a president.”

You look at her, but her eyes won't leave the screen. Consecutive effort to convince yourself the thought of holding her hand did not cross your mind is successful. Fortunately, the rest of the movie goes without _similar incidents_ till the last moments between Deckard and Roy Batty. You feel she shifts so you do the same and you’re facing each other.

_Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it? That´s what is to be a slave._

Says Roy when she looks at you like no one ever did before.

_I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe…_

You tremble inside like a crazy. It supposed to be Max who causes feelings like this. Or anyone actually but Victoria Chase.

_All those moments will be lost in time like tears in rain._

Yet, it's her who's here. And you want it to stay like that.

“It's late. I have to go.” But it doesn't. She leaves and you just stare at the screen even long after closing credits.  When you finally move your eyes catch Victoria's camera bag on the floor. _Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course the version of Blader Runner Victoria and Chloe watched is Final Cut (2007). If you remember Steph gave it to Chloe in BTS.
> 
> The whole top model involvement wasn't planned at all. I work on the story on evenings, and I accidentally bumped into ANTM reruns. I stuck with it and let’s just say it’s like a crack. Everyone knows it’s bad but once you start with it… :)  
> So it’s become part of my writing habit and also inspired the way I named the chapters.


	9. The girl who deserves more

**Monday, October 28, 2013**

**7:14 pm., Chase Manor** **,** **Strasbourg, France**

 

_Damn it, Chloe! Damn it. What the fuck are you doing here?_

This could wait. Or maybe you couldn't care less. But no. You took a train from Willstätt drove your skateboard for more than 3k and got lost so many times not to mention that freaking heavy camera bag sticking around. Part of you has hoped you won't make it through the main gate because no one sane would allow skater girl into the aristocratic mansion. Nevertheless, it seems you already have an ally living in this lair of evil. So with the board in hand and the camera bag across the body you are walking through the courtyard pebbles rattling under your feet. It's quite a distance. You still can turn away you want to believe. In spite of that, it is indeed outside your power. The urge to see Victoria is stronger than you. The butler is waiting at the main door.

“Good evening, Albert.”

“Good evening, Miss Price.”

“Victoria forget her camera at...school.” Shit, she wasn't at school today, that's why you are here.

“I couldn't come sooner because I had other errands to run but since I do not have her phone number I only could try to be a more decent person than she has ever expected and perform a good deed. So here I am. And so is the camera.” Is it the effect of this creepy house that makes you talk like this, you wonder.

“That is sensational from you Miss Price. Would you like to give her the camera by yourself?” _No, you won't Chloe. You need to be out of here._

“Well, yeah. I guess. If she's around.” You have no clue who decided which words leave your mouth because it definitely wasn't you.

“She is. Please follow me then.”

You leave your board in the lounge and do as he asked. He leads you to a room you haven't been in yet, the dining hall.  It looks like the background for vampire horror movie. Or porn. It's dark even when full of light and paintings on the wall makes you feel anxious. But not as anxious as people sitting around the table. Specifically two of them. The Duchess von Liechtenstein and CEO Chase no doubt. You catch your reflection in the showcase door and suddenly become aware more than ever that you don't belong here. Looking at their fancy clothes, you guess ripped jeans and black leather jacket definitely isn't something the assholes who own this house would appreciate. For unknown reasons as another part of your outfit, you chose the white studded collar blouse you only wear for official club events instead of some usual anarchy style t-shirt. Hard to say if you regret it or not.  Albert announces you as Miss Chloe Price thank fuck not in French, which apparently doesn't ring a bell to those two wax figurines. CEO gives you an intense stare, and it's almost startling. His face is perfectly shaved his blond hair perfectly haircut his incredibly blue eyes perfectly cold. Empty. He reminds you of an older soulless version of Bastian Schweinsteiger, what an irony for someone who hates football. The Duchess is nothing like Sara Brandner though. Freddy always over excited when in your presence sits motionless looking dismayed. Victoria blurts something about you being her subject for photo shooting and supposed to come tomorrow, so you are probably misguided but does not pay you much attention. It sounds like you are some silly guinea pig. Usually, you would desire to slap her for that but you cannot now when seeing her unusually tense. The Duchess gives you a hasty look and mocks Victoria’s poor sense of picking subjects _(ironically you wasn't her choice)_ but also ponders about how it could be an interesting challenge to capture anything worth seeing in an object so incredibly dull. You'd like to show the Duchess how many intense layers this incredibly dull subject has but rather miss the opportunity.  Maybe rebellious 16 years old you would come with a great plan how to demonstrate _the dullness_ at its best. Perhaps even the two weeks younger you.

“Well, I bid you my farewell, then.” But the most present you just hand the camera to Albert and is ready to leave.

“I've never worked with a subject like you. Maybe I could finally understand why Victoria keeps drowning in pools of mediocrity. Join us for dinner Miss…”

“Price.” Says the butler and you are trying to decode Victoria's expression when her eyes meet yours for the first time this evening. With a remote success. She is begging you for sure but for what? To go or to stay?

“Miss Price. Join us for a dinner. _S'il vous plaît._ ”

Duchess replies her offer. It's unclear if teasing and contemptuous tone that cannot be unnoticed is directed towards you or her daughter. And you still don't have an answer you seek for. The eyes that could provide it are not looking at you anymore. You open your mouth with the intention to dismiss this insanity. It must be written all over your face when CEO  intervenes.

“Be our guest! For dinner and for the night.”

Not only you but everyone in the room is affected by CEO’s icy words. Even Albert the butler who only bears one expression recoils. You think about your dad. Was it like this when his boss offered the transfer or termination of his contract? Option without an option? Only the rich man will. But you are not like dad. No one will tell you what to do! Richard’s W. Chase stare is long and fixed, and maybe he expects you to yield but you won’t. You don't blink you don't move. You are about to tell him you rather stick a rusty nail in your eye than obey him. But then there is something you would not notice if you couldn't resist long enough if you broke the eye contact. You catch a glimpse of something peculiar behind the coldness, the emptiness. For a moment you tend to believe his action is not a deed of superiority like his wife’s. Could it be a trial? If so you will not lose. No retreat, no surrender. A nod you offer to him is barely recognizable. He nods back though. Albert leads you to the seat next to Victoria’s, and she gives you the quickest glance. It's finally clear what's the message, but her hand clasping yours under the table enforces the impact considerably. You wish this moment could be frozen for you to relish it but when it's gone, you are not even sure if it happened. A housemaid brings you weird vegetable stew you are reluctant to touch but then tell yourself you can do this, you won’t back off. It's better than it looks. Having someone new to mock seems refreshing at first for Duchess like young blood for old Dracula. She has no idea Chloe the vampire slayer is the thing monsters are having nightmares about. So you just keep being you, sharp-tongued, bold, fierce. And Victoria, she is…  

Her restrained expression and refined speech fulfill demands of her parents her touches satisfy your wildest desires. It's most unexpected, but she sees right through you. When you are snarky but cool, she gently rubs your knee when you about to go too savage and rash she lightly squeezed it, so you hold yourself in check. And it works, and Duchess is more and more disgruntled, and it feels fantastic. For a second you dare to admit it feels like a married couple just trying to get over with the unavoidable annual family dinner and if you will make it amazing sex will follow. You shudder and quickly dismiss this thought.

CEO breaks his silence once again with the same effect. He asks about your plans and goals for the future. For this time you will have no guidance from Victoria. Her hand stiffens. But one thing you know for sure mentioning anything football related would be most unwise. Fuck. You need any suggestion that could help you build a believable story. This house - uninspiring. You focus on today's memories and try to look serious because your future goals are indeed very serious. The morning workout - useless. Steph talking about Diablo 3 on lunch break - useless. Trevor and Dana making out in the living room of your house before you leave to Strasbourg - gross. The journey with train - useless. Wait. Rewind.  Trevor and Dana making out on couch CSI Las Vegas in TV behind them. You remember that episode one of your mum's favourite. The killer was identified thanks to the makeshift odour recognition device. And that will be the headline of your story. You use some real chemistry and biology knowledge, and some bullshit you've just made up and explain you want to work in research and development and create a machine like that because it can make a huge difference in law enforcement. Odour recognition device is too much for them. It's almost impossible to not burst into a laugh, but somehow you manage it. Victoria doesn't. She tries to use the sudden cough attack as a disguise, but you know better. Feeling victorious you underestimate viciousness of this place and of their owners because dessert is served with a considerable portion of heinous passive aggressiveness and now the young woman next to you is a target. It's not the worst part though. Not even she accepts all the crap from Duchess _(CEO transform himself into a silent iceberg again),_ but every time you want to stand up for her, she crushes your knee so hard you are afraid an anterior cruciate ligament injury will follow. You don't know what pisses you more, Richard W. Chase acting like he is not present letting his wife undermine their amazing and beautiful daughter _(you did not just consider her amazing and beautiful, did you?)_ , fucking Duchess doing so or Victoria tolerating all this. You cannot handle it anymore. You cannot solve this contradiction in you, in her. You suppose to hate her not crave to stand up for her. She supposed to be a self-confident, arrogant bitch, not a docile wanker.

“Excuse me…” You stand and free your knee from any influence that could make you feel like a part of a married couple. You want to say something raw, harsh before exit. But why you should bother when she is not fighting back? “...I need to use a bathroom.”

You abandon the vampire horror movie den and head to the front door with no desire to go back. If Victoria is ok with such treatment, it's her problem, not yours. Without Albert around you made some unnecessary detours but finally notice the lounge. Before you can enter she crosses your path.

She pins you to the wall, “Don't go. If you leave, you let them win,” and sounds unlikely emotional, defenseless.

You escape the ambush but cannot stop thinking about how her sudden proximity has made you feel. Images of pressing your lips against hers biting them just pops into your head. Unfortunately, you are slowly figuring out the outburst of lust is less of your problem.

“And why should I care about some wealthy pricks?” You are so mad at her. How dares she be all open and vulnerable, how dares she makes you care about her?

“Because that's what you do Price, isn't it? Giving zero fucks. If someone is a dipshit, it doesn't matter if they are rich or powerful or whatever wannabe, you defy them.” Her stare is piercing. Your emotions are raging.

“For fuck sake. Why you did not stand up for yourself? You are _The queen bitch._ You lead not follow. If you want me to defy them Why you d-did not let me…” You stammer. None of this makes sense.

“This world is nothing you’ve ever experienced. It’s not that simple. I couldn't allow you to show them that you…” Her lips purse and you know exactly what she intended to say but won’t. _That you care about her. Except you don’t. You don't give a shit._

“You have something I can only dream of. A choice.” She takes a step forward and reaches for your hand.

“Stay! Defy them! I know you want to. Sleep in their fancy bed, piss in their expensive toilet and have breakfast with them when they expect you to be long gone. Act like you own the place.” It's quite a progress from _I call the police_ to _stay and defy them._ And she continues.

“Defy them with every bit of passion I know you have. I dare you. Do it not only because I can't.”

On the corner of your eye you catch approaching butler, which does not please you but at this point, you are convinced there must be at least one alternate reality where you already fall down to the settee pressed together involved in a profound kiss.

“How did you know I was about to leave?” She doesn't seem to be bothered by butler’s presence so you won't be either.

She puts her free hand on your chest where your heart is beating so fast, “I just did” and gives you a soft smile.

“Albert will show you the guest room. I’ll meet you there in no time. The dinner is over. No need to join the Duchess and CEO again for tonight.”

This would be a perfect opportunity to kiss if… _(Wait! Why are you still thinking about kissing her, Chloe, why?)_ Her hands separate from your body and even when she just told you to be back soon you want her to linger, so you capture the tips of her fingers. She reacts immediately and faces you again.

“You call your parents the Duchess and CEO?” You have been wondering about this for some time. It works she stays and pouts.

“Yeah. So much benevolence from my side, isn't it? But I am royal after all. Using a bad language is below me.” They probably don’t have a swear jar.

“Not that anything in this crazy house will ever make sense to me but doesn't it bother you at all you just mocked your parents in front of your butler. What stops him to tell them?”

“You saw how do they treat their daughter how do you think that goes with servants? He is loyal to his job unconditionally. As his father was and father of his father.” She smiles warmly, and this time it's because of him. “But it doesn't mean he cannot see they are a bunch of pricks.” He does the same.

***

The room assigned to you has enormous bed its own bathroom, and no mental painting thank fuck for that. The hot shower has been a great help to give your shits together. After having time to think you hope Victoria won't show up because everything that has happened since you entered this house is fucking insane. It's pure chaos and turmoil, and everything that starts in chaos ends in chaos.´The Best thing to do will be collapse into the bed and let it behind you. With one towel wrapped around your body other around your hair, you are back in the guest's room.

“Pot, Jack or methamphetamine?” Victoria is standing next to the double bed has a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a plastic bag in other probably stuffed with marijuana and MDMA and something folded under her arm.

“I don't know. All of it?” You guess without intoxication you won't be able to make it through this evening.

“But as a pro athlete drugs are not an option anymore so Jack will do.”

She wears pink satin pajamas. Shortest shorts and skin-tight top. No bra. Her nipples almost cutting it trough. You catch yourself shamelessly stare at them. So does she.

“Don't flatter yourself much, Price. It's not because of you. I'm just cold.”

“Yeah. Ice cold royal bitch.” The emotional outburst is obviously long gone and Queen bitch Victoria is back. Part of you is glad the other not so much.

“Exactly. Here. “She puts the bottle on a nightstand and throws you the black final fantasy tank top. “It's your pajama for tonight.  I'll bring some glasses.”

When she's back, you are towel-less your magnificent bare legs spread on the bed given tank top fitting you just right. She pours the drinks hand you one and sits next to you. Somehow she perceives what do you want to ask and starts before you can. Her expression is neutral without any hard feelings. She explains how the Duchess herself is neither smart nor talented but her full-time job is to show everyone she is better than them. CEO hates her and probably also hates Victoria and Freddy, but most of the times he completely ignores them, so it's possible it’s even worse than hate. Indifference. She would probably don't give a shit for a long time if it wasn't for her little brother because he is not taking it well, especially CEO’s absence. You kind of figured this out by now but hearing her saying those things leaves you speechless. You’ve finished your drinks, so she pours the glasses again. It's clear she is done with the topic and is about to start another. She asks if your causal one-night stands mean you don’t play for keeps by default or you just can't get over the girl from Berlin. You talked about Max with Freddy, and he promised to not bring it up again but never with her. It's a hit below the belt. You don't know what to say. You have no idea why she requests this answer. So you hush. She groans.

“Fine, we can talk about some football bullshits but for fuck sake stop being a gloomy mute.”  

“Your butler really must like me when he let me in just like that even allowed me to interrupt your fancy dinner.” How narrow is the rebellion against Duchess-CEO oppression, you wonder.

You have been connecting dots for quite a time since your arrival and when she is giving you freedom of talking about anything why not about this? Your observation makes her jitter.

“He likes you, but he would not allow you to enter if I didn’t ask him to do so.”

“What?” _What?_

“I knew you were coming because he acknowledged me and I asked him to try bringing you in.” It's there again. A hint of vulnerability.

“So you planned this? Was I your tool to piss the parents?” _Did she use you and now she feels sorry about it?_ Bitch.

“I didn't plan anything, ok? It just happened. Besides you came here willingly.”

She puts away the glass and one of her hands slowly approach your face and caress it. You bite your lower lip because otherwise, you wouldn't be able to hold the moan.

“So once I knew I just wanted you by my side. Sue me.” When you are about to reach for her hand, she retreats so you only touch your own skin and you can tell vulnerability window is closed again.

“I’m intoxicated enough. You’re not such a dark and stinking lowlife as I thought. Considering this evening level of madness, I allow you to have sex with me. It is going to be one-shot. And there are two unbreakable rules: No mouth kissing and we'll never talk about it again, none of this.”

She is impossible as always. Being by her side and having sex without mouth kissing are two entirely different things.

“Excuse me?” Fuck. She shifts and lay down on her side showing you her back.

“Don't fool yourself. I will not repeat my proposal. You’ve heard it, and it's only your problem you don't know how to deal with it.”

It's tempting. The thought of the Royal Queen bitch squirming in pleasure under your touch asking for more. Pleading, screaming your name. Your undies are already soaked. Alcohol does not help, and her body is really fuckable. Not to mention agonisingly hot nipples practically begging to be sucked. Has everything supposed to lead to this? You come to a conclusion what are you about to do and wonder if you'll regret this decision for the rest of your life.

“Ok. I’m in.” Before she can turn back, you spoon her and almost press your lips to her ear.

“But instead of sex,” you whisper “I’ll just hold you for the rest of the night.”

She freezes, but it doesn't stop you from nuzzling into her neck and wrapping your arm around her waist. Finally, she succumbs and melts. Maybe it's not even real. She drunk you, you fell asleep, and now the worst nightmare is haunting you. Except it feels so good. Her scent penetrates through your defenses, it's already engraved inside your brain. She may or may not moan your name when you tighten the embrace. You slightly brush your lips against her skin fighting the temptation to lick it but lose when she pants and leave the trace of sloppy kisses there. She reaches for your hand and intertwines her fingers with yours. It's terrifying, and you cannot think about it now, but deep down you are very much aware of how you would not hesitate for a second to go for meaningless sex if you didn't care about her. Like with those fangirls. Your body is all fired up to fuck her senseless but your heart, your mind your common sense says no. Maybe you are not ready to admit some things were already set in motion but you cannot deny this moment is perfect. How you fit together. How she doesn't mind to be lost in you. And then she brings your hand to her lips and gives it the most tender kiss. You’ll never forget this feeling. And you’ll never talk about it again.

“You are a pussy, Price. You could have fucked me. Me, Victoria Chase. Everyone’s wet dream. And you chickened out.” She says half asleep after the moment. Somehow you know she doesn't mean it. Or your drunk brain wants to believe she doesn't. That she is actually glad, you didn't. You can say so many things to make her feel like a cheap whore not _everyone’s wet dream._ Instead, your thumb rubs the palm of her hand.

"You deserve so much more than just to be fucked, Victoria.” With that though both of you fall asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chloe the Vampire Slayer is a reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
> 
> _Defy them _conversation was inspired by the Cosima and Delphine _Defy them _conversation in Orphan Black.____


	10. The girl who created a mess

**Tuesday, October 29, 2013  
**

**7:14 am., Somewhere between Strasbourg, France and Willstätt, Germany,**

It has been the most unusual morning. First you couldn't shake the feeling of something unsettling when you sneak out of the bed out of Chloe’s Price warm embrace. But then in the shower after the morning yoga it hit you hard. The void, the chill and every other creepy vestige this forsaken place bears and brings back to life every morning was fading. The reason why you felt unsettled wasn’t the awkwardness from waking up next to your archenemy or the fact she refused your offer, yesterday. You felt weird because you enjoyed the whole thing when you really really shouldn't. Against your best judgement this realisation actually freed you from tension and anxiety. Even when you couldn't show it, seeing edgy Duchess and CEO doing their best not to lose their temper when realised the unwanted guest actually accepted their phony offer, fulfilled you with pure joy. It only rose during the ride to school hearing the happy banter between Freddy and Chloe. But a minute ago he kissed her cheek and than yours and left the car so it's only two of you now. And she is muted all of the sudden without any desire to hang out with you. Her only concern is her phone _(and yours too, she’s doing something with both, but your raging emotions prevent you from noticing)._ You shouldn't be looking at her but on the road. When you think about it you didn't talk much this morning. Actually she didn't say anything specifically addressed towards you. Something unsettling is coming back. But for this time the thought of how good it felt to be so close to Chloe does not bring you serenity. Quite opposite. Because watching her all fired up and pissing your parents and watching her being distant and uncommitted catalyze two very different ways of thinking. Anger takes control and clouds your mind. Your memory betrays you and your request of not talking about insane closeness from previous night ever again or your threats to call the police if she won't be gone in no time after she hugged you for the first time are all forgotten. For the moment you cannot see you actually demanded this. You have been subconsciously shunning almost every effort to be closer to her. If she’s reluctant to open the _current relationship status_ topic, it could be because she’s only respecting your wishes not because you don’t mean anything to her. You expect the worse instead and are failing to see how much she cares. You are so pissed about her silent treatment after you opened to her more than to anyone else, you lose the ability to think straight. You feel betrayed and hurt and only one who can be responsible for this mess is Chloe Price. Because you were ready to admit you can trust her. You wanted to believe she understands the world behind the looking glass. But she doesn’t give a shit. Only stares at her stupid phone probably texting with some bitch she fucked unlike you. _Come on, Victoria you’re not going to cry. Not in the world. Fuck._ You didn’t want to fucking marry her for fuck sake but obviously you even weren’t good enough for one night stand. Damn! She must be so satisfied with herself and laugh at your pathetic attempt to have sex with her. The fucking player she is, definitely not a keeper. You feel like your fingers are about to squash the steering wheel.

“Thanks for the ride, Vic.” She says when you stop in front of the Orsay Stadium to drop her for morning training session. She smiles warmly and put your phone back in your bag.  You are not able to see it, though.

“And…” You miss her effort to reach you because the rage orders you to be bitchy.

“Whatever, be gone.” Selfishly lost in your own bitterness, you do not notice she just gave you something you wanted so badly.

You drive to school and absolutely indulge yourself in being Queen Bee-atch. You overcompensate so much Taylor raises an alert. After the first class, she tries to talk about it. How dares she? You would quickly evade her nosy questions but you catch a glimpse of persona non grata coming back from the morning training session, and it completely throws you off balance. Price the bitch is stuck to her phone with some pathetic nerd around. After the call ends she’s beyond excited and so is that fucking acquaintance of hers. Siri, Steffi whatever her name is. They both end on the ground in a happy hug. So sickening. You are definitely not jealous she did not share that fantastic news with you first. Fortunately, you don't have to face Taylor in this state of disgust because she seems to be more disturbed by this scene than you are. Crumbling Taylor reminds of who you are. Victoria Chase doesn't have a moment of weakness. Fuck Price, Fuck Steffi, the nerd. You link arms with Taylor and drag her away. You got places to be, and you don't give a shit about lame football bitch at all. What the hell were you even thinking, such a pathetic embarrassing loser cannot be by your side. Not as a friend, not as anything.

 

_The fear from failure and rejection has made you a total idiot. A fool. And it will cost you so much. But right now you cannot see any of it._

 

**Tuesday, October 29, 2013**

**12:07 am., Willstät Academy, Willstätt, Germany**

You woke up alone. Well, Albert woke you up and you weren’t alone. Classic British blue shorthair cat was staring at you with his copper eyes and grinning. You did not expect Victoria to be there with the kiss and _good morning hun_ , her absence still felt disappointing though. Especially because the feeling of her right next to you lingered. Of her delicate soft skin, of her fine scent, of the way she stroked your hand. And it was nothing like you experienced before after waking up in an unfamiliar bed in unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar girl. You didn’t want to forget and be gone for this time. You wanted her to be there with you, have a little chit-chat about nothing, even cuddle a bit, perhaps. _Weird._ Maybe it’s because fucking wasn’t involved. Maybe you could actually be friends, you thought.  Somehow you could relate to the shits she’s been through. So you did what she asked. You defied her parents and didn’t intend to mention ever again that you sort of slept together the previous night. When alone in the car with her you became a bit nervous about what to say or how to act. You created an unusual connection last night, and you didn’t intend to ruin it by overconfident or overly emotional attitude. So you kept silent. Still, you wanted to do something nice for her. That’s what friends do, isn’t it? She’s tough to get along with, but she opened up to you so now you know your personalities are not that different. You told yourself, maybe it’s worth trying to be friendly. You _borrowed her phone_ and secretly obtained her number. Also, you send her that pic of you in the bathroom she wanted so badly. You weren’t bothered that she was kind of anxious and distant all morning because who wouldn’t be with such retarded parents around.

Your good spirit was strengthened even by the call from the football federation. Sharing it with Steph who was super happy for you was great, but you’d like to tell Victoria, too. And you also had an idea that definitely would make her happy. As happy as you are. Such a wrong decision, you will realise soon enough. When you finally seek her, you feel very confident.

“Vic, hey Victoria, do you have a moment?” You catch her before the lunch.

“Price, no talking in school. I thought that little half empty head of yours already understands the system of social boundaries.” She’s mean, but you’re still in denial.

“Social boundaries. Oh crap, how could I forget? My bad.” Not only you are giving her another chance but when she is about to leave, you grab her hand a drag her out of the building.

“Are you fucking crazy?” You've figured she might not like it a bit. But you still hold the positive attitude.

“Now when we are not  in school, can we talk?” She is super pissed. It's kind of hot. You know you should not think that. Slowly you start to realise, yesterday probably meant nothing to her.

“Do you know what it is?” She picks something from her bag.

“No idea, badass lipstick or pepper spray?”

“If you ever touch me again, I will not hesitate a second to use it. Now talk.” So no lipstick but pepper spray. You attempt to find her soft side one last time.

“I have been called for performance tests with the senior national squad for the first time.” But then you finally see how delusional you were when believed you can give her something to be happy about.

“Yeah, guess what, no one cares about some football bulshit. Do you want me to throw you a party? Thank you, but no thank you.” _Shit._ You don't need this. Fuck her. You fucking don't need this at all. Victoria Chase is a dead end. She is so fucked up. She better already had all of her photos because you're not going to talk to her ever again. That bitch can fuck off.

“It’s not about.. oh my, you are such an asshole. Eternal asshole.” You want to hurt her, but at the same time, you want to let it go. Let her go. Just forget about everything that happened. About everything you have felt. You are feeling.

“Am, I? So what about you leave me alone and go fuck yourself, loser.” There is a mix of hurt and fury in her eyes.  

“I would feel sorry for you, Victoria. But you actually enjoy it, don’t you? You love to be the heinous bitch. Duchess would be proud.” You know this hurts her.

“Oh, no you didn’t. You didn’t compare me to Duchess. You wouldn’t dare!”

“Yes, I did. Doesn’t it make you happy? You successfully mock me when you deceived me and made me care. And now you have your perfect shot.”

Your words hit the nail on the head because she’s finally speechless.

“And just for the record, I don't need your praise. I just wanted to tell you the whole performance tests thing could be good settings for your photo shooting. I thought you would like it. The exposure in there works because of bright lights and no shadows and… Fuck it. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. No more photos. I will do you a favour and leave you alone. But do the same for me, bitch.”

She doesn't care about anything then herself and her own pleasure. No way you are ever going to talk to her again. You leave her hanging and cannot wait to be anywhere but in her proximity.

“Price, wait. Price!” She doesn't even make a real effort to stop you. Shallow command definitely doesn't count.

Fuck Victoria Chase. No chance you are going to play her sick games.


	11. The girl who impressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m busy on the weekend running my first half marathon, so this chapter is out a bit earlier. Not that you needed that information. :)  
> Anyway, If you want to know more about what happened between chapter 10 and chapter 11 at the party on October 29, check this short [Steph and Taylor piece](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100487/chapters/29971719). 
> 
> From now their story will continue alongside Victoria and Chloe’s, it’s not necessary to read their piece though, and this one remains ChasePrice centric.

 

**Tuesday, October 29, 2013,**

 8:37 pm. Royal queen bitch: 

_Just for your information, you cannot be done with me Price. I ’ve been done so long before your pathetic existence created a mess. You’re no special._

 

8:59 pm. me: 

_fyi NO SPECIAL doesn’t give the slightest fuck about any of your bullshit_

 

9:00 pm. Royal queen bitch: 

_of course you don’t. No one ever does except for Jack and MDMA. BEST PALS EVER. Anyway good news for u, bitch, IM taking them for the wild ride so you’ll never see me again._

 

Outgoing calls

9:02 pm.  Royal queen bitch 

9:03 pm.  Royal queen bitch 

9:05 pm.  Royal queen bitch 

 

9:07 pm. _The number you have dialed is not available at the moment. Please try again later._

 

**Thursday, October 31, 2013,**

**11:47 am.,  National team training facility, Frankfurt am Main, Germany**

It was a fucking effort to make it here. School permission, DFB permission, creating a believable story for the Duchess and mostly your own self-restraint. You still act like it's not about her. Like it's not true you who stands here but the photographer. _You ignore the stupid text message you sent as the lamest apology attempt in history, and you ignore the fact she showed at the party._ The only reason you have done so much is that you want to win the contest. The members of the Senior national football squad are gathered on the far side of the hall getting ready for the performance test. You and two press photographers are listening to DFB staff person instructions how to not interfere with the tests when taking pics. You barely pay attention because the primary object of your focus is elsewhere, chatting with the football squad. She definitely hasn't noticed you, yet. You cannot take your eyes from her. She seems so happy and thrilled. And mesmerizing. This is what she has been working for so hard, what she has dreamt of. And so it happens. The sharp pang of jealousy overflows you. You are yearning to be the reason for her happiness. But for the moment you cannot be more distant even when you are basically at the same place. You really should stop the pathetic meltdown and get focused. You are here to work not because you want to show her how much you care. Shooting does not satisfy you at all, but her feat is excellent. You curse yourself for not being able to gather your shits together because Chloe performing sprint or shuttle run or vertical jump or anything else could provide material for the perfect shot if you only could focus on what are you doing not on her sweaty, sexy exterior. The thought of her being picked for the senior squad is not a pleasant one. It would definitely make Chloe excited, but also it would mean she is not coming back to Willstät instead she would absolve the week-long trip with the national team. A whole week without her smile, without her smug attitude without… _You are so busted Victoria._ Her eyes caught you for the first time a moment ago. You waved and smiled. She just looked away. You couldn't interfere with the test, but you need to talk to her now when it's over. You just have to, you cannot let her go on some field trip with 20 hot football players and leave this matter unsettled. But she suspects your plan, and before you can reach her, she disappears in the part of the facility you are not authorized to enter. You have to try really hard to keep the fury under control. But there is nothing you can do right now. Two hours later the squad for the trip is announced on the twitter. Chloe Price is the part of it for the first time ever. You try to call her. She does not pick. Again. But even if she would you still couldn't make yourself to tell her how proud you are so maybe it's a good thing.

  


**Saturday, November 2, 2013,  
**

**5:47 pm.,Chase Manor, Strasbourg, France**

Freddy is lying on your couch and rewinding moments from the game. You've settled in the bed with your laptop editing the photos you made the other day.  Qualification game between Croatia and Germany ended more than 30 minutes ago. He is still upset Chloe only sat on the bench. You are not happy either. You've never been a fan of the 20 weird persons chasing the ball. It’s even less satisfying without Chloe involved. At least you caught a glimpse of her when substitutes were made. First, your heart jumped with happiness second your fury almost made you destroy the TV screen again. She was sitting next to infamous German football team bad girl Simone Laudehr making jokes, touching her arm. You almost exploded knowing she has a crush on Simone. Freddy told you. But you couldn't crack in front him.

“Do you think she likes me?” You really hope this question is about some of his classmates. You try to come with some name.

“Katja or Nina?” Even when the names are right, it's clear from his expression he had someone entirely different in mind.

“Nah. Chloe. I was thinking, maybe I could…”

“Freddy!” Oh, Chloe fucking Price and that insane charm of yours. “You understand she’s 19 and you are 13.”

“Of course I understand Vicky. But if I want to impress someone as amazing as Chloe, I need a plan. Like you always have a plan for everything. That's why you are so awesome, and nothing ever surprise you. And this long-term plan will prepare me for everything and when I am 18, I can ask her out and will be super ready. Besides she needs time to get over Max.” He is so genuine about his affection to Chloe and his love and admiration for you it almost makes you cry. Your unconscious ignores the mention of _Max._

“Freddy, I am sure Chloe likes you very much, and even if our parents would not want to eradicate you from family history or call the exorcist at least in the case of dating a _stupid football player_ , I don't suppose she can reciprocate your feelings in the way you desire. She plays for the different team...I thought you would see that by now.”

“Oh. I thought maybe she could play for both.” Damn,  his way of thinking is not very bright, but sadness in his voice softens you.

“Come here Fredster.”

First a bit hesitant but in the end he accepts your offer and cuddles next to you. People like Duchess and CEO should never have kids. People with no heart or affinity. People who are only obsessed with perfection. Like the perfect piece of art, the perfect business deal, the perfect piece of shit. Fuck, they definitely should not have children. Not one and definitely not two. But you guess their decision to have a second kid is probably the one from all you are thankful for. Because your little brother is the only reason why you didn't become dead inside. A monster like your parents. With him you understand what it means to care for someone, to do everything to protect them, to make them happy. You've never thought of having anyone around who would do the same for you. Nathan and Taylor are closest to you as it gets nevertheless you cannot imagine feeling comfortable around them in the moment of weakness. Somehow Chloe Price managed that. She has made you feel everything you were never supposed to feel. You, on the other hand, had shunned the one person in the world that wanted to make you happy. Hell of the performance Victoria! Before you can start a pity party the phone on your nightstand chimes.

“Is it Chloe? Say hi from me.” Half asleep Freddy mumbles into the pillow.

“I don't think it's her. We had a little disagreement. Not sure if it can be settled.” He stirs.

“But don’t worry. It doesn't mean you two cannot be friends. She will not let you go because of some stupid fight with me. There is no-brainer.”

“K. But I also think she will not let you either.” He shifts to the other side of the bed and put a blanket on. If Duchess would know you let him take a nap instead of studying on Saturday afternoon, you'd be damned. Fuck her. You reach for the phone and are glad you are lying because the sudden dizziness could make you faint. It is from Chloe after all. After a couple of dismissed calls, you texted her two days ago. She didn't reply and sent you to the whole 5 stages of grief rollercoaster. But it was more like, anger, anger, anger, bargaining, anger. But you still have had hope.  Like maybe she was busy or didn't have a phone with her. But now what if all hope will be gone after you’ll read her response.

Chloe: 

_Liar. You don't have a picture of me on your wall._

Shit. It’s not the end, isn't it? It’s a chance. It must be. You scroll up and read the message you sent. The one she is responding to. First you thought you can use her infatuation with Dido to your advantage. To remind her of things.. Good things she shared with you.. So you wrote.

Me: 

_My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I got out of bed at all_

_the morning rain clouds up my window and I can't see at all_

_And even if I could it'd all be grey, but your picture on my wall_

_it reminds me that it's not so bad._

Then you wanted to cut your fingers so they will never tap any other silly message and cursed your endless awkwardness. Now you know you have to be very careful. No games. No hiding.

Chloe: 

_And you don't drink tea._

Me: 

_I have plenty of your pictures. Does it matter they are not on my wall? Isn't it enough they remind me of everything great you've ever given to me._

No response for a minute. Or for an eternity.

Chloe: 

_If you like them so much why it's so hard to put them on the wall?_

Right. Chloe Price at her best. If you will waver or give her an ambiguous answer, it's over. There is no doubt.

Me: 

_I've never put anyone’s picture on my wall. Maybe I'm not ready, yet._

_Besides how should I know you want me to do so? What if someone else still has your picture on her wall. What if you don't care about my wall at all?_

You hit the send button and you know it’s not enough but once you cross the line, there will be no going back.

Me: 

_Chloe, despite everything I am scared and insecure inside. I am not like you. I am not fearless. The rejection and failure dread me to death._

Damn. It's out. You just admitted you may have some feelings towards her. Not only to Chloe but more importantly to yourself. You cannot deny having it out of your chest is liberating but would you say it to her in person? No matter what the answer will be you feel relief.

Chloe: 

_It’s your wall Victoria. You and only you can decide what pictures will be on it._

 

**Wednesday, November 6, 2013,**

**4:59 pm., Stadium Pod Dubňom, Žilina, Slovakia**

**FIFA Women’s World Cup qualification**

**Slovakia vs. Germany**

Damn! You are about to be sub in. Damn! Chloe Price will play for the senior football team for the first time ever. Not only that. Coach decided you are going to play on double six position with Nadine Keßler. The freaking Nadine Keßler. Thursday on performance test you called her _Miss._ Now you will stand side by side with one of the best midfielders in the world as equal.  It’s overwhelming, but you have to stay focused. When you think about it, it's absolute madness. Two years ago you were angry. You thought the whole world was against you. Separated from your old team from your best friend from everything that mattered to you. You almost fell down to the vicious spiral of alcohol abuse, drug abuse and slacking off. You could end up drugged and raped on some filthy rich bastard floor, or worse shot down in some shady bathroom. But your parents never gave up on you. Neither did principal Kellerman. You thought you didn't need any of them any of their bullshit. You actually enjoyed being left alone with the darkness . But now you know that's not good for anyone. Everyone needs someone who loves them. Someone who trusts in them no matter what. Has Victoria ever had such person around? From what you know, it seems unlikely.

Referee whistle starts the second half, and your football trance begins. You expected to be a bit nervous or clumsy, but you’re really not. You feel like you can do anything. Certainly, the messages you received before the game from special royal blond not so much bitch anymore has nothing to do with your feeling of invincibility. So in no time, you fit perfectly with the team and with Nadine on double six position. You hit the top in last 10 minutes of the game when you assist twice. You are thrilled after the game. You feel like you’ve just won the world championships. And coach praises you, teammates are so supportive. The DFB-TV interviews you. For fuck sake. Nadine Keßler puts an arm around your shoulders and tells you how good you were. You almost die. All this should be fucking perfect.You always thought Max would be the first person you’ll share emotions like these with. Actually, you imagined it so many times since you started to play. How excited she would be. Or you will be because you made her proud. But when you finally have a moment for yourself, no coach around no teammates or press that moment when you can check your phone Max is the last person you are thinking about. Sitting on the team bus heading to the hotel your phone can have your full attention for the first time after the game. So many messages await. You definitely did not expect that. Unfortunately, you cannot care less about those except the ones from.

VICTORIA CHASE

You click on her name and scroll up to go back to your previous conversation from today.

Vic: 

_What do you think of my wall? Me… I’d say it's the most perfect._

The screenshot of her phone background followed. It’s the bathroom photo. You kind of look like a superhero after saving the world and you only saved Victoria’s finger. It’s amazing how she can capture such moment. Not as amazing as her next message, though.

Vic: 

_Damn Price! Poor striker, she didn't stand a chance. You acted like real cold blood football bitch when stole the ball from her. I could never be more proud._

You blush.

Vic: 

_I need to be careful, now. Every football loving baby dyke would put me on their hit list if they knew I had you in my bed._

And you smile and blush some more.

Me: 

_Just imagine what they would do if found out I had U in mine._

Vic: 

_Don’t get ahead of yourself, Price. It doesn’t count. I didn’t stay for the night. :p. Anyway, I have to go. Family business. Have a nice evening Champ. ;)_

Me: 

_NO EMOJI!_

Me: 

_Thx, tho. And good luck with the family business._

After you close Vic’s conversation window, you notice the message you are not ready to read yet. It's from Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victoria’s text contains lyrics of Thank you from Dido. [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TO48Cnl66w). 
> 
> Max will appear eventually :)


	12. The girl who betrayed

**Wednesday, November 13, 2013,**

**2:31 pm., Wilstätt Academy, Wilstätt, Germany**

 

Today is weird. You feel different. And the strange conversation you just had with Steph is not helping. That little geek is indeed really observative. And even when you are friends, you still do not feel comfortable talking about Victoria or listening about Taylor. Fuck. Even the thought of Steph and you engaged in chit-chat about two queen bees feels odd.

“Price! Hey, Price!”

When you are about to hop on the board and leave the schoolground someone yells at you. Well not someone, you know it’s Victoria. Her voice is irreplaceable. You didn't see her all day. Not like you usually see her on Wednesdays because of completely different schedule. But you kind of miss her now when you are… _ What exactly you and she are, Chloe? Friends?  _ Not likely. She recognizes you at school and doesn't have a rash when you're around but nothing more than causal hi, how was your class. Fuckbuddies? If so you should fuck her instead of cuddle. Task partners? _ Does task partner drive all the way to Frankfurt to pick another task partner coming back from national team trip and then holds her hand all the way back? _ Definitely not. Without a proper answer, you turn to her.

“I was t-thinking…” The moment she sees you she stammers. Pale as death is a hugely insufficient description of how she looks.

“For fuck sake what happened, Price?” She fights dizziness, you can tell when she approaches you and hesitantly touches a new crust that formed over the wound on your jaw.

“No big. Just smashed my face yesterday when riding back home.” 

She picked you from training and wanted to drive you. You suggested grabbing a snack before. So you did. And then the Duchess called so she had to rush and couldn't take you home as intended. She hugged you and left in haste. Your mind was too occupied with the warmness of her body and shortness of her skirt you kind of slipped and smashed your face. Like you said, no big.

“Holy shit in the bucket. How many times I told you to wear a helmet?” She clenches her fists and hits you in the chest. Those are not real hits though more like desperate ones. She is super upset. “How many?” And she trembles.

“It's ok, Vic. I’m ok.” You wrap your arms around her body because 

a) you want to and because 

b) you have a feeling she would crumble if you didn´t.

“It's fucking not. Jesus Christ. You could have a concussion or break something. Have you been in the hospital?” 

She mumbles into your neck. Was it a sob you heard? Victoria Chase is losing it in public because of some irrelevant little scab on your jaw and bruise on your temple. Well maybe it's not that little but still. Your embrace is tightening. Is this an answer to the question you've been yearning? That something unthinkable is happening.

“Everything's alright Vic. It's alright.” One hand is rubbing her back other gripping her waist ceasing the rage mixed with worry. She succumbs. Her body adjusts to yours in a way that couldn’t be better. Now It's your turn to fight the dizziness.

Without previous intention to do so you kiss her hair after she has finally calmed down. “So what were you thinking about before?” Your question or maybe the random act of affection brings her back to the edge though.

“Nothing.” She leaves your embrace, and it's not a good feeling.

“We are going to the hospital. And you never going to ride this crap again.”

Her genuine concerns make you feel all warm and mushy without a doubt, you cannot even be mad at her for throwing your board into a trash can. Still, you are not going anywhere except for training session. She grabs your hand and is pretty adamant about the decision. It's hard to resist but you must.

“Victoria!”

Shit. The lingering embrace reminded you of the night at Chase manor of that overwhelming feeling of closeness when you tasted her skin was drowned in her scent. But back then she wanted to fuck a never talk about it again, now she wants to take you to the hospital because she's worried because she cares. And from all of the sudden the fear you tried to bury when refused to fuck her crawls to the surface. She is becoming significantly important to you, and it's worse than treason. It's like you are betraying the person who has been most important to you for so long. Max.

“Victoria, stop!” She yields.

“I am fine. And surely you don't want to be seen acting like a nervous wreck in front of everyone. So calm down.” It sounds harsh. More than you intended. And she is going back to her normal. Shit. She takes step back and shakes off all sensitivity.

"You know, what? Fuck off, Price. I just...whatever."

“See, it's much better to be a bitch again, isn't it?.”  It is a try to be funny and lighten the mood.

“I wanted to do a shooting in a school gym. Doesn’t matter. You screwed up as always.” 

Yeah, that's precisely what you have done. You wanted back bitchy Victoria, and now you curse that move. It cannot be reversed though.

“You know I have training. I cannot stay. I cannot do any shooting in the gym. Maybe you screwed up a bit, don’t you think?”  _ Why are you saying those words, Chloe?” _

“Screw you. Screw this.” Fuck. You see her leaving. Two minutes ago it was praised action so why you cannot stand this. A storm is raging inside you.  _ Loyalty or Betrayal? But who are you betraying now? _

It's decided. You have some spare time to get to the stadium, so you follow Victoria. When in the gym the place is adjusted as a performance test area with lightning kits and shades around. She spots you.

“It would only take 20 minutes if you just listened for once.” She places yourself in the spotlight, and unfortunately for you, it exalts every emotion she carries for the moment.

"For once!" You can lie to yourself as much as you want, but she's getting under your skin.

“Then I could drive you to the stadium. But you ruined it. Congrats.” She is disturbed, and you caused it. Five weeks ago you’d be delighted if pissed her.

“I still can do that.” Recently you desire the complete opposite. You don't intend to surrender to stupid crush, though. So you fight it, refuse to admit every time she's around your heart beat faster and it's not because her existence annoys you to no end.

“No you fucking can't. I will not take pictures of you performing the strenuous activity when you can have the brain haemorrhage or internal bleeding.” She's not helping at all, but you will admit nothing. You’ll only soothe her because it was you who pissed her. Simple as that.

“Vic..” Inwardly seething you reach for her hand and against everything you just promised to yourself it's not working. You pull her right into your embrace.

“Don’t! Don't fucking touch me.” Says she but ostensible words are in sheer contrast with her actions. You would swear the last thing she wants is you stop touching her. She may put her free hand on your chest, but instead of pushing you off she's falling deeper into your arms.

“Look me in the eye.” She so close, dangerously close and you just have to resist.

“You know what happens with a pupil in the bright environment? It narrows, while dilates in the dark. The main symptom of the concussion is lack of narrowing.” Speaking has never been so difficult. And add to it her view is definitely shifting between your eyes and your lips.

You move away from the spotlight then go back. “Have the pupils narrowed?” She nods.

“So come on Vic, tell me what you want me to do.” With that, your hands break the contact and you let them just hang at your sides. If didn't the world as you know it would end, you’re sure of that. She turns away from you and takes a deep breath.

“Ok but you have to listen to me carefully.” When she's facing you again, she looks perfectly composed.

“I don't know what happens to you, but the moment you realise the camera is focused on you, you hate it. Like that machine stole your soul. Like it was supposed to be your dream date, and it ditched you for someone who is neither as beautiful nor smart as you.”

“You do realise I am not camera sexual as you are Vic.” You try to stay cool about what she said  _ (not that about you being smart and beautiful it fucking excites you) _ but you know she is right about the other thing. You and camera have a history or more like...

“Or maybe it's the photographer what's holding you back. I understand it we have our difficulties...” She understands nothing, you want to scream, she's one step ahead though.

“I’ve made so many perfect shots of you, but we need at least one when you are aware it's about you.” Her index finger point towards your chest and then her whole hand slowly trails down.You shiver.

“You need to recognise you are the showstopper. That pic is about you and only you, and it has to be seen.” No way. Being photographed is one annoying thing you can force yourself to handle but to pose on purpose, it's something utterly different.

“I've always thought you're the clever one. You’ve spent a lot of time with me. You must know this won't work.” Fuck. Now you are losing it, and she's soothing.

“It will, but you have to trust me. The shot will be perfect only when you will trust me I can capture your best moment. The most sincere.”

“I do trust you Victoria. I do, but…” You have to tell her about Max, the thought occurs.  _ Shit, not only you just allow the possibility of trusting the Queen bitch but also wanted to reveal the essence of your connection with Max. Your betrayal is complete. _

“Shhh…” She puts her thumb on your lips and cups your face with rest of her fingers then lingers. You enjoy it more than should. “Just show me.”

“K. Give me two minutes.” You almost whisper and head towards the locker room. Once outside the area of her influence, only one word pops into your head. Run. You are clueless about when your actions have gone out of your control. Nevertheless, it's happening again. You change to sports clothes and back in the gym seeing Victoria all fired up you’re appalled at what's going to come.

“Just do what you'd normally do ” It's easy for her to say, “but do it for me.”

So you try.  It's awkward at first. You feel like naked when sprint or perform the vertical jump. Everytime the freaking machine clicks you frown. You know you’re busted when she stops and get closer.

“You are thinking about something else.” Hell, you do. You are thinking about zillion things, zillion reasons why you should not be doing this.

“Don’t. It's just you and me right now.”

Something changes, not because she says that but because the way how she does it because the way how she looks at you. Like you are really the only one in the world. The second attempt is another story. You are finally able to do what she has asked for. Perform for the camera most importantly for her. It could be 10 minutes or 10 hours. The beads of sweat are breaking out on your brow.

“Enough! I’ve got enough.” 

She's panting like it was her who did the shuttle run. You freeze, and so does she. You just standing there looking at each other till she decides to put the camera down and move towards you. It's hesitant at first but the closer she is the more committed she becomes to her decision. She doesn't reach you though. The gym door slams and the spell is broken.

“Nathan!?”

You turn and see him. Three months ago you broke this guy nose. It was the first day of school. You were hanging out with Trevor and other lads on the parking lot doing freestyle and stuff with football when you spot him. He got off his ugly expensive car staggering, lurking for his next victim. It didn't take long, and he found her. Socially awkward junior Samantha or whatever. You couldn't just stand there and allow him to take advantage of her. He was wasted enough so one light shot would knock him down easily. Somehow the ball you sent his way was too precise and too strong. In a hospital they figure out there is more drugs in his system than on one of the Charlie Sheen private parties. Dickhead senior shipped him to rehab in no time and covered the tracks. You only know because Trevor told you and he knew because Dana’s mum was the doctor who nursed the prick. The official statement said he transferred. Samantha whatever thanked you but also apologised and refused to become part of the investigation. Too humiliating she said. And even when principal Kellermann claimed he believes you he did nothing. He said he couldn't. So yeah you suddenly become a brute who broke Nathan Prescott’s nose without reason. When Victoria found out, he's gone, and you are responsible she promised the worst revenge. Isn't it ironic that´s kind of happening, but you bet it's entirely different from what she imagined.

“Hi, V., it's been a quite time, hasn't it?”

Rehab treated him well it seems, he looks like a human being again. It doesn't mean you lost the greed to break his nose. But Victoria apparently lost interest in you because she walks towards him and he does the same (oh how fucking romantic) and they hug and you have to be out of here because Nathan’s nose would not stand a chance against your fist and that could complicate things for you. While you passing them, queen bitch suddenly remembers.

“I'll be right back.” You catch her words and sense her pursuing you. It's inevitable, so you rather face this sooner than later. You turn, and she almost knocks you down.

“I'm in a rush, practice will start in no time.” You hardly can sound any colder.

“I'll see you around then, I guess.” And she is almost as icy as you.

“Whatever.” You exit the gym but need to slow down for a moment, catch a breath because something incredibly heavy lays on your chest.

_ “What was that bitch doing here.” _

_ “We have to work together. Principal's decision.” _

It's barely audible, but you hear them talking. Fuck them. You bring your shits together and finally leave this damned place.

***

The training session is intense. Thank God for that. Or coach. You have to be focused, and it helps because you cannot think about what happened on shooting. You absolutely cannot think about the Victoria Fucking Chase. This is madness. Only ten more days and it will be over. You will go back to hating each other or ignoring at least. No interactions, no touching or sleeping in the same bed, no sentimental talks about how you trust each other. Fuck. Fuck this shit. You will not pine for some heinous bitch like Victoria Chase. Although now you know she's not heinous and definitely not a bitch.

  
  
  



	13. The girl in the white jersey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This action will have consequences.

**Sunday, November 17, 2013, 10:44 am.,**

**Orsay Stadium, playfield, Willstätt, Germany,**

**DFB Cup Eighth-finals, SC Sand vs. MSV Duisburg**

 

To the hell with Victoria. She has shown up despite you ignoring her more or less since the Nathan fiasco. Her blond sidekick is rubbing elbows with Steph _(what a progress!)_ , so she surprisingly hangs out with your brother. Fuck. There is no point in lying to yourself. You are actually happy she’s here.  And apparently, she is pleased to see you too. During the warm-up, she gives you a couple of cute smiles, and you gladly return. Feeling much more peaceful now you can focus on the game. Weather is shit, it snows with a temperature around zero. But maybe it could be your advantage. Duisburg, the former winner of Champions league, is more tactical and on this wet terrain, they won't be able to show much of it. This is probably the most important game you’ve ever played. As the captain, you are going to lead your team against one of the most famous clubs in Bundesliga history. And it seems not only you and your teammates are aware of how vital today happening is. Even when the weather is most unwelcoming, the stands are full and roaring. After the pre-game formalities, you stand inside the centre circle itching for the kickoff.

“T minus 90 seconds.” Says the referee. In your head, you are doing last minute summary of the tactics you've prepared for the match when you hear Victoria shout.

“Hey, Price.” She takes off her jacket and unveils what's underneath. It's white SC Sand jersey but not just some regular one. She turns and points the index fingers on the nameplate. It's yours. She wears the jersey with your name on it.

“You can do this! Kick their asses! Go, Sand!”

Damn hell you can, you realise. Another thing hits you hard. For the first time, she didn't come here as a photographer. You are not some subject for her project, anymore. She's come as a fan. Because of you, because of the team. And you’re gonna win this for her and for every Sand fan who's rooting for you. When the whistle starts the first half you are barely able to do a few passes and your team scores. It's impressive but there is nothing more important right now than to stay focused, that's what you shout at girls, but they already know. You don't have time to wonder, if it's the team spirit or explosive crowd or the world turning upside down because Victoria the football hater/Chloe Price hater wears your jersey but when you're heading to the locker room for the halftime break scoreboard shows Duisburg is 3 goals down. Everything your team has done so far worked. What a wonderful feeling. The weather is worsening, but you all are so fired you'd gladly skip the break and kick their asses some more. You try to stay on the ground, don't underestimate them but the second half is no different. It’s you personally who scores the fifth goal with a beautiful header, and it makes you feel too powerful to be defeated. So when Duisburgers brace yourself for the first time, you have no doubt you can stop their desperate attack.  You are not wrong, but it costs you.

 

**Sunday, November 17, 2013, 12:34 am.,**

**Orsay Stadium, stands, Willstätt, Germany,**

**DFB Cup Eighth-finals, SC Sand vs. MSV Duisburg**

 

Chloe is lying on the snow-covered grass, lifeless. Fuck the snow. And Fuck the white jerseys. You're quite familiar with the whole colour interactions. You're freaking photographer after all. You've always loved the thing.  Colours and light working together to make a great picture. Till now. Till you see carmine red spreading across. The worst thing is you can swear you heard the crack. You pray you beg to the whatever God exists it wasn't her spine. And you still want to believe she´ll just stand up. She is a survivor, a warrior. It doesn't weaken the fact that the clash in the air was horrendous, though. Striker falling on her and squishing her to the ground was even worse. You cannot see accurately what's going on the field but still relentlessly try to convince yourself it's just something so trivial as the broken nose. But if so, why she's not standing up?

_Well fuck. You are fucking losing it, Victoria. You don’t remember when you grab Chloe´s brother hand, but by now you are crushing the bones in it. He doesn’t seem to mind, quite the opposite. Then there is Taylor, who appeared out of the blue right after the accident, squeezing you mumbling something you absolutely do not give a shit about. If it weren't for them, you'd already been on the field. Not like it would help to resurrect Chloe._

The staff bring the stretcher, and team medic uses the neck brace. They taking her away. Loading her into the ambulance. No way you’re staying here. You disentangle from Taylor's embrace and rush to the exit.  Everything that's happening around is a just blurry ocean of hazy images and sounds. If someone asked you how did you get to the car you'd probably have to say no fucking clue. You haven't realised you are shaking like a crazy, but when you are not able to push the car key button and open the door, it comes as a severe issue.

“Shit.” Falling apart is the last thing you desire. It's so close though. Finally the door lock click. You feel someone’s hand on your arm.

“Let me drive.”

“Fuck no!” It's Taylor accompanied by skater boy Trevor and Steph the geek. None of them concerns you.

“If you crash your car into the bridge you’ll be no use for her.” Says your now former best friend and steals your keys. Unfortunately, you have no strength left to fight her.

“Fine, whatever. Just be fast.”

Instead of crashing into the bridge you crash into the passenger seat and reluctantly accept you’ve never felt so helpless in your entire life. No cunning, no superiority, no money in the world can fix this. You cannot bargain with God or whoever is responsible for Chloe´s life right now.  The two saps end in the back seat and from what you see in the rearview mirror they both look devastated. Fuck. Such a pity party. That cloud above them has no silver lining when you fucking need it the most. You close your eyes and want to take a deep breath, but the images of bloody snow overwhelm you. The best technique of coping you learnt through years is Bitchiness. So you decide to use it.

“Price will be ok. No doubt that this is only one of her lame attempts how to seek attention.” Without success. It sounds incredibly phoney.

Taylor, who is to your surprise skilfully and swiftly driving the silver Audi to the desired destination, reaches for your hand and holds it for the moment. “She is strong, V. She will make it.”

If you weren't so terrified about certain unconscious punk, you'd probably wonder how she knows, because from the gentleness of her touch it's clear she does. You’ve never talked about it with her or anyone else, but by now it's an undeniable truth. Chloe Price has stolen your heart. And maybe she'll never know. Finally, the hospital building is at sight.

“Stop here, Tay.” You shout when she is passing by the entrance. She can park the car on her own. You get out in a rush without bag or phone. It has no real meaning for now nor does the possibility of how it could backfire on you.

The adrenaline rush of anticipation helps you to get going and pull you through this miserable place till you find the reception.

“Excuse me, the ambulance has brought a young woman recently, Chloe Price. Would you kindly tell me where I can find her and how is she doing?” You’re trying to be polite, but you just want to grab the woman behind the desk and shake her till she gives you the required answer.

“Fill in a form miss. If you're related, I’ll point you to the right direction when your personal information will be validated ” She hands you some silly paper, and you are three seconds from beating the shit out of that cold bitch when you notice the wedding ring on her finger.

“My wife needs me, you surely understand. Just imagine your partner in hospital bed wanting you by his side, but you are stuck with the paperwork instead.” You need to know where is Chloe and this wench either tell or you’ll make her.

“Your wife?”

“Yeah, my wife.” You turn and show her the nametag on the white jersey. “She’s Price I’m Price so could you cut the crap and tell me where she is.” She doesn't look convinced. You are really losing your patience.

“Just fill in the form, miss.” She spats and turns back to her computer.

You can see yourself jumping through the desk sweeping her down, but damned Taylor intervenes again.

“Easy, V.” To the hell with easy!

“Chloe is here somewhere, possibly dying and that bitch wants me to fill in some fucking form!”

If the look could kill receptionist would say bye to this world. It's been more than 30 minutes since the clash, and you still know nothing.  You are so desperate that the thought of calling Richard W. Chase and asking him for help crosses your mind. That bastard undoubtedly can pull lots of strings leading right to this lousy facility administrator who will deal with incompetent employees and take you to Chloe immediately. Taylor is dragging you away from receptionist desk and bids Trevor to fill in the form. Trevor. He is a family member. The bureaucratic bitch has to tell him everything. It’s only a small comfort, but at least it stops you from thinking about calling Richard W. Chase. Your frustration and anger are still boiling though. Before you can do anything incredibly irrational some doctor passing by recognises your little group.

“Trevor, I thought you'd come.”

Her name tag says Dr. Ward. She greets the rest of you and you remember seeing her before, when you came with Taylor to visit her mum. _Dr Ward, of course, mother of Trevor's girlfriend Dana._ She expected him so she must know what’s going on. You don’t need to do anything though to make her talk. She explains that Chloe woke up in ambulance but was very confused. It's possible the head trauma caused the subdural hematoma so she is having MRI scan right now. _Subdural hematoma._ You barely register the mention of fractured ribs. Taylor feels your weakness and holds you tighter. You are recommended to sit down and wait till MRI scan is finished. Dr. Ward reassures everything’s going to be alright because Chloe has all the care she needs and leaves. It’s more than you had 5 minutes ago but it’s still not enough. Part of you want to chase her, the other is definitely not ready to face possible _subdural hematoma._ You free yourself from Taylor and walks away from them. When she sees you do not plan anything crazy she lets you go. You take a seat as far as possible from your companions and from the wicked receptionist. First thing that has to be done is engage your brain in some demanding activity. You need to choose surrounding, object and motive, optimally something, somewhere very far away from here. Unfortunately you cannot close your eyes to visualise because images of snow poisoned by blood are lurking in darkness. Never mind, you choose Iceland and Northern lights. It would be really difficult to capture because you can see Northern lights only at night, so there is no light actually except for the Northern light. You’d find it a bit funny if… _No, Victoria back to Northern lights._ Thoughts about ISO, aperture and exposure time occupy your mind and you’re thankful but if you thought it will last you were naive. Anything could bring you back to reality but in the end it's coldness. You know precisely what would warm you. Chloe’s black sports hoodie. The one she forgot at your residence when first time there. You planned to rid of it but you never did. It's been a month and it still smells like her. Not so intense anymore, not like a penetrating scent of hers when you hug. Shit. You look at a wall clock and another half an hour is gone. On the other side of the room you witness a quite peculiar scene. Taylor arms are tightly wrapped around Steph girl, hands rubbing her back, soothing. You had to miss two of them becoming friends. Or maybe you didn't because the more you watch the less friendly the whole interactions looks. They briefly separate but only because they are about to kiss. Yes, it’s really happening. Your BFF Taylor Christensen is kissing another girl in public. And it’s not some party drunken kiss. You’ve always thought she was saving herself for some handsome journalism student _Nate Archibald_ style when she said high school boys are not for her.  Now you know or more like now you see she save all that passion and love for girls. Well, not girls. The girl. How so you didn’t see this coming? _Right, because you have your own “the girl” issues._ The intimate moment is interrupted by William and Joyce’s arrival, Dana still in her muddy jersey follows and gives Trevor a warm embrace. The game must be over then. Seeing them brings unexpected sadness. Everyone is here because they care deeply about Chloe. Well, maybe except for Taylor. You thought she came to support you but apparently it’s only a side effect of supporting Chloe’s friend Steph. And Everyone here has someone to lean on in this dark hour. Except you. _If you were injured would someone show up, would someone be worried about your well being? You want to believe Chloe would but after the whole hot and cold attitude you don’t deserve her affection at all._ Feeling that strange lump in your throat you are no longer confident in your ability to hold the tears. Bloody images or not you have to close your eyes otherwise you are going to cry.

“How are you doing, sweetie?” No one ever called you like that.

It’s not necessary to look because there is no doubt to who those kinds words belong to but you do anyway. Seeing Joyce sitting down you realise you cannot answer without bursting into tears, so you gulp and remain silent. She puts her arm around your shoulders, and you feel an inevitable is here.

“She's going to be alright.” You should be the one comforting her not vice versa. Nevertheless, your head sinks into her chest and drops of salty liquid start to roll down your cheeks.

“It’s going to be alright. Just let it out.” She tightens the grasp and softly caresses your hair. Since the encounter in the principal's office couple of weeks ago you experienced so many _first times_ with Chloe Price around but never expected one of those first times could be the glimpse of mother’s love feeling. Yet, it’s happening. You do as Joyce asked and let it all out. Soon her blouse is soaked with the tears, and you know this is not how Victoria Chase, the daughter of the Duchess supposed to behave still you cannot make yourself to give a fuck.

***

It’s been some time since Dr Ward showed up again. To everyone relief, she informed that there is no sign of subdural hematoma on MRI scan and fortunately the ribs are not fractured only bruised. Because of concussion, Chloe is going stay for the night though, for observation. Price family was allowed to visit, and you were left to ponder of what other emotion today will bring next. Even when you kind of enjoyed the breakdown - comfort situation you decided it’s no need to let everyone know about it, so you spent the significant amount of time in bathroom cooling off your puffy eyes. When finally looking a bit better you roamed the hospital halls first and eventually find Chloe’s room. You know you’re in the right place because not only Dana but also Taylor and Steph stick around. You don’t expect anyone else except family will have a privilege to see her. It’s better this way perhaps. You don’t trust yourself. In your current  disrupted state of mind anything could happen, anything could be said. Even something incredibly stupid, like _I love you, Chloe_. She doesn’t need some pathetic groupie around, so that would be absolutely inappropriate. And wrong. Not a chance you can truly love anyone. You're too damaged for that. But you don’t plan to leave her either. You simply can’t. And If it means to nestle in the hospital hall all night, so be it. You wish again you’d have the black sports hoodie with you.

“Hey.” The delivery woman who happens to be Taylor doesn’t bring the hoodie only protein bar and takes a seat next to you.

“Hey.” You really aren’t in the chatty mood.

“I left you alone because it seemed you wanted that but I if you need anything…”

“It’s ok Tay, I’m good.” That’s a mild overstatement. Nevertheless, she is needed elsewhere.

“You should eat something, V. Here, take this.” She hands you the bar, and you are ready to dismiss it.

“You should go back to your girlfriend.” Instead, you accept the bar and dismiss Taylor.

“I’m sorry. I-I know I should tell you. I wanted to tell you, but…” _Oh, God. Is she really apologising for not telling you about her love life? What kind of friend you have been she was afraid to share with you?_

“But you didn’t because I always act like a judgemental bitch, and you were afraid I’ll shun you because you fall for a geek,” she shakes her head  “who also happens to be a girl,” but you know you’re right.

“No. No, it’s not like that.”

“Shush. I’m genuinely really sorry for being a bitch and make you feel that way. You’re über cute together by the way, and we can talk about this later, but now I want to be alone. And surely Steph already misses you.” You give her soft smile and even sent one towards Steph which is great because not long ago smiling was the last thing you thought about.

“Ok, V. I think we gotta go then. Here are the car keys and if you need anything, just call.” You nod and hug her briefly.

“Promise you call. Promise!”

“I’ll promise.” Whether you mean it or not, she believes you and leaves hand in hand with her newly found love.

Staying alone with Dana you consider eating the protein bar as the best thing to do if you want to avoid talking. And it’s actually delicious. It must be hours since the last time you ate if you think so. Revitalised with a new energy a quite strange statement is forming in your mind.

“I’m sorry I sexted with your best friend boyfriend last year and accuse you of doing so.”

Damn. This whole situation fucked you up hard, being so sentimental. On the other hand, you don’t even know why did that. It seemed funny at the moment, now you see it as rather idiotic.

“I don’t understand why you work so hard on being a bitch when you actually can be really nice and caring.”

Recently you don’t understand either and even when you’d desire to explain yourself, you won’t because the door of Chloe’s hospital room opens. Your heart rate rises rapidly. Prices no longer look distressed. That’s such a relief. But then Joyce turns to you and tells you her daughter wishes to see you, which totally makes you weak at the knees. But you can’t just sit here and zone out. So you nod and mumble something like ‘k’.

Nothing could prepare you for what awaits inside. There is a swollen cut on Chloe’s forehead now neatly stitched _(so that’s where all that blood came from)_ and her face still bears the fading trails of the skateboarding accident. The first impulse you have is to be mad. Furious actually. Her reckless nature almost cost her life. That thought makes you as vulnerable as she looks right now in the silly hospital gown. So the desire to be angry is quickly replaced by tenderness. Shit. Three months ago she was the most hated person in your life. You despised her more than you hate the Duchess. But somehow she has managed to tear down all of your defences, she has made you care. She has accomplished impossible. You want nothing more than make her feel better, stand by her, protect her. _Love her._

“Hi, Captain Price.” Fuck, you don’t doubt it was the most pathetic first line you could pick. She smiles, and you crave to hold her tightly in your arms. You would if not afraid to hurt her battered body.

“Hey, Vic. I was told captain Price get ahead of herself a bit today, so if you don’t mind, only Chloe joins you.” She winks, and it must cause her pain. It definitely does to you. You can’t hold yourself back anymore and sit next to the bed. Once you’re in the reach, she seeks your hand and intertwines your fingers. You gasp and shiver, and so does she but you don’t look her in the eyes because If you did, you’d say it. You falsely believe that unspoken means unseen. Your action proves otherwise. You lift Chloe’s hand and gently kiss it. Once, twice, three times till your greed for intimacy is fulfilled but don’t remove your lips after and relish the closeness in silence.

“How are you feeling?” You finally ask.

“Strange, I guess. A bit dizzy but don’t worry, it's ok, considering.” Dizzy is not ok, it’s an alert. You raise your head and are ready to act.

“I’m calling the doc.” You definitely should, but it means you have to release the hold and it’s the last thing you yearn.

“No..no. I’m fine…” Her fingers intensify the grip. “Now when you are here, everything's ok.”

“But If you do not feel well...”

“I do feel well now with you around.” She moves a bit, so there is enough space in bed for another person to lay down. “So will you stay with me, for tonight?”

You are pretty sure it’s not even allowed, but instead of calling the doc you take off your boots and cuddle up with Chloe, kissing her cheek in the process.

“Don’t ever do this to me again, Price. Don’t you dare.” You whisper to the crook of her neck, and since you are in the kissing mood, you left one there too. Then exhaustion and relief overcome you, and suddenly the sleep is stronger than vigilance.

***

More than two hours later, a nurse woke you up and asked you to leave because 9pm she emphasised, is long after the visiting hours. Chloe begged you to stay and you promised her to figure it out. So you waited outside and even when this one lacked the bitterness of receptionist you decided to use more effective approach. You are not proud of it, but you’re queen bitch after all. So _blackmail is always better than bribery_ worked and in the end, you offer the bribe too, so you weren’t 100% bitch. When nurse exited Chloe’s room you just politely informed her about your royal heritage and of many ways how you could make her life miserable if dismissed or great if she’ll obey. She let you stay, and you were free to reunite with Chloe. She possessed your hand again, and you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing it once more. You refused to reveal what you had done for permission to stay, so she started a monologue about how hot you look in her jersey or how you generally look hot in everything because of your great sense of fashion. You’d agree with such statement if it didn't say by Chloe Price, total anti-fashionista. Your question about the ability to think straight made her laugh. She joked that perhaps the low level of blood sugar is responsible for her new fashion super ability, which she addressed as outrageous and need to get rid of immediately. When she told you she’d kill for the Snickers you were happy to oblige. So here you are back on the hall on the secret mission, but you’re not alone. A tall man, definitely not hospital personnel, is occupying a seat not far. He twitches. Your arrival probably woke him up.

You scrutinize the visitor, and first, you think you are hallucinating or something. After a moment it’s clear that you’re not. It is indeed Richard W. Chase sitting on the filthy hospital chair in front of Chloe’s room. The two buttons on top of his shirt are undone and bow tie stuck in the pocket of his black jacket. His hair is ruffled like he run his hands through it for million times and the penetrating blue eyes miss the coldness. You never saw him like this.

“I thought you are staying in Zurich till next Friday.” You say matter of factly like you’d just met at the dinner table.

“Your mother called. She said you’re not picking the phone and then it was not available.” _The Phone._ It probably died somewhere in the car. You only shrug. Maybe you will regret your decision or your behaviour tomorrow but tonight is about Chloe not about fucking missed call.

“She has been worried about you.” Even he doesn’t believe the words he says, you can tell.

“I’ll bet.”

The Duchess must be actually happy that this opportunity to manipulate him to come back from Switzerland and piss him appeared.

It remains unknown how he found you, why he came or why you don’t hesitate to act so rash and disobedient. You have nothing more to say to him, so you pass by and continue the mission _bring me the the Snickers._

“Vicky, wait!” You may have two happy memories from your childhood when he called you that. Or maybe your brain just made it up. You stop anyway and look him in the eyes. _Is he blinking back the tears?_

“What do you want father? You did not give a shit for years, why such a sudden change of mind?” He gulps.

“Do you really think _THIS IS_ the best for you? Untamed football player with no future?” You’d probably won’t be fierce if it was only about you, but he will not talk shit about Chloe.

“And what do you think is the best for me?” Your voice rises.

“Should I marry some heartless prick? The wealthy royal businessman who will hate our kids and me and never be around. Is that what is best for me?” You shout now.

“Working on being a heinous bitch till he fucks his assistants around the world?  Is it what you recommend, daddy? Guess what? Fuck you. And fuck the Duchess and fuck your miserable lives. Now if you excuse me, I need to find some Snickers.” You pant and try to catch a breath. There is one last thing he needs to hear after all.

“Stay away from her. She will not hesitate a second to break your fancy nose.”

You leave him, but the shitstorm of emotions is not leaving you. This action will have consequences, but nothing is more essential for you right now than Chloe. Finding snickers is not an easy task _(thank fuck for a distraction)_ because even when you finally see a vending machine, you realise all your belongings are in the car including the purse. You exit the hospital building and scan the quiet parking area for the silver Audi. It must have been snowing the whole time because all cars are covered with the thick white layer. _Shit_. You are freezing, not because of low temperature because of Chloe’s absence, and finding that damned car seems impossible. You will not falter though, this is not about some fucking chocolate bar. You press the car key button, and instead of eyesight, you decide to depend on hearing. Your wit helps you identify the right car, and you slip in. The leather seat pressed against your back makes you feel sentimental because this easily could be the last time when the cosy vehicle is in your possession. You reach for the purse, take some change and give zero fucks about the phone. The way back is less challenging, and just in case, you buy three bars instead of one, so you’ll have enough supplies until morning. Richard W. Chase is still hunkered down where you left him. It makes you nervous. You are only sure about one thing, he cares about his reputation too much so he will not do anything reckless. Like dragging you out.

“When I was your age, I fall in love with a girl.” He says quietly, and you bet it wasn’t the Duchess. In spite of the belief, you don’t give a fuck about his bulshit, you stay and listen.

He talks about a young girl, smart and beautiful according to his words, but absolutely unacceptable for his parents because of working-class roots. She couldn’t stand it and left him for a football player. Long story short, they were not supposed to be together. He believes she would always be unhappy feeling out of place seeking for something _less complicated_ and he would always feel under pressure for putting her in such position _terrified she’ll leave one day._ Or you guess that if actually was some lesson learned from his story this should be it. What you don’t understand is how all this was the best for them. For her of course. She’s happy now, far away from poison and wickedness But him? He let go the girl he loved to become a royal prick. And for what? After the dramatic pause he admits marrying the Duchess was a mistake but if something good resulted from this mistake it’s you and your brother, he says and confuses you greatly.

“I have to go and you should too.” It almost feels like the man who’s sitting here is not the father you know but the father you wouldn’t despise. Maybe that’s why you put one Snickers on the chair next to him. He looks starving.

“I’ll wait here Vicky, till your friend feels better and you’re ready to go home.”

You don’t want to think about his words anymore, what do you want is behind the doors and that’s where you head.

“You’re back?” Chloe’s sleepy words sound very surprised.

“Why I shouldn’t be?” You smile playfully and give her what she has been craving for. When she is unwrapping the bar, you take off your boots and lay down on your back next to her.

“Well, I hear you shout, fight with your father. And he seems like someone whose requests should not be opposed.” She takes a bite, and her free hand automatically ends in yours.

"I was thinking about intervening, breaking his nose perhaps. Unfortunately, without the Snickers, I was too weak. I'm sorry."

“Don’t worry about it, silly.” Your head turns and you leave a quick peck on her cheek. Jeez, when you’ve become so touchy, you wonder.

“I’m proud of you, Vic. You did the right thing to stand up for yourself.” She says like you were some kind of superhero. The truth is without her as a significant part of your life you’d never do anything like that.

“Want some?” Before you can answer, she put the last piece of the Snickers inside your mouth, her index finger lingers, begs to be licked. You gladly comply.

She shifts and turns to her side. For a moment you’re not touching, and it surprises you again how intensely your body reacts to withdrawal. When her head rests on your shoulder, and her hand sneaks under the white jersey the contrast between touched and untouched only intensify.

“Are you ok? Does your head not hurt lying like this. Or ribs?” It’s a stupid question, she would not do anything that makes her feel uncomfortable, but you still didn’t get used to seeing her so fragile.

“I feel no pain with you around. Not to mention I’m sedated, baby. I thought it has been obvious by now. I did not say f-word once, I was blabbering about fashion, and I’m pretty sure I’ve just called you baby.” She has done indeed, and you have to chuckle. You feel her fingers caressing your stomach through the fabric of black turtleneck top and have to wonder if she would do that if not sedated. You decide that doesn’t matter now and that kissing attitude shall not be breached. Your lips softly touch her hair.

“So, are you back together with Nathan?” Her question is barely audible. “Does he not mind, you are…”

“We are not back together because we never were together.” You’re not sure why you rush so much with an answer.

“Did you sleep with him?” And it is also beyond you why Chloe desires to know this.

“No, I didn’t.”

“What about a kiss? Did you kiss?” _Holy crap. She’s jealous._ There is no doubt she’s jealous of Nathan, and you’re astonished.  

“Does it matter? Do you really want to know?” You don’t plan to make her upset, though and hope this topic could be avoided.

“I guess not.” Says she and cuddle even closer.

The happiness you feel, it’s something completely unknown. It makes you forget who you are or the whole fucking von Liechtenstein dynasty. Your mind is clouded and having Chloe alive and well in your arms prevents you from seeing what entails to be in love. The masquerade world of malicious superiority and feigned ignorance you’ve lived in for so long could not prepare you for something so pure and unconditional as love. You're not a complete newcomer to the matters of care, thanks to your little brother. But soon enough you will find out the hard way, that caring about the young boy living in the sterile world of strict rules and caring about Chloe Price, the wild force of nature are two entirely different things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Football Trivia:  
> The cup game and the regular season game have basically nothing in common, because Cup and League are two different competitions, playing simultaneously. Don't want to bore you with details, because most of you probably haven't noticed there is some football backstory :) but the game against Duisburg doesn't affect possible promotion to Bundesliga.  
> Anyway, every game mentioned in the story actually happened in 2013. There was even a Sand player who was knocked down during the game and took to the hospital. Not Chloe Price thought :)


	14. The girl in love

**Tuesday, November 19, 2013,**

**4:31 pm., Wilstätt, Germany**

You leave the car and head to the cafe, where Chloe wanted to meet. She finally texted you two hours ago. You feel restless, conflicted, on the verge of a breakdown. You feel lots of things. Maybe because you didn't sleep for more than 30 hours. Everything that's happening is so new to you. You’ve felt like this since you left her yesterday morning. It was around 5 am. She was asleep, and you probably shouldn’t abandon her like that, but it would be so much harder for both of you if she were awake. She also had to go through various tests so you couldn’t blackmail the whole hospital to let you stay. Well, maybe someone could but asking him for help is worse than a deal with the devil. Even when Richard W. Chase was waiting outside and fulfilled the promise he gave you for the first time ever. Actually, you forgot his existence and the conversation you had had the night before.  Seeing him made you remember who you are and expect the worst. Boarding school, confiscation of every expensive item that fuels your indulgence in materialism or exorcism at least. Being held in the grip of Chloe's charm, still comforted by it, you were ready to face anything without thinking about consequences. Like never see your Audi and Canon 1D X again. Something else happened, though. You’d swear the man who you unwillingly have to call father was thinking about hugging you but chickened out eventually when your body language sent the dismissive message. The meaner you were, the more crumbled he became. When you gave him the car keys in the hospital parking lot and said you don't need anything anymore from him or the Duchess, he refused to accept it. You planned to stay at Taylor's till figure things out, but he asked you to come home. Begged not order.

And it was just the beginning. Back in the manor, his ruthless personality reappeared but only when talking to the Duchess. He basically told her to bugger off and leave you alone when she started to scold for not picking the phone. She remained puzzled, did as commanded and disappeared consumed by shame and anger. Seeing her like that would normally felt beyond marvelous, but given the circumstances taking a shower and hurrying back to the hospital, rejoin with Captain Price seemed much more appealing. Your father intentionally overlooked the fact you were planning to skip the school and insisted that wherever you go, you should not drive by yourself. He assigned you his personal driver. You didn't ponder about it much, you still don't, but he definitely had thought the whole thing trough, before. He had to. What's behind his plot is that last thing that concerns you right now, anyway. The top of Richard W. Chase effort was the promise to pick Freddy from the school trip.

The way he cared could be welcomed and appreciated if it wasn’t too little too late. So you avoided another clumsy hug attempt and head back to your room where you found Chloe’s black hoodie. It wasn't something you planned to do just automatically sought for the piece of clothing that carried the familiar scent. Yeah, it’s crazy, you know that but snuggling the hoodie gave you strength to go on. So you reluctantly undressed the white jersey and the rest of your clothes and showered. When ready to go, Mr. Driver who was settled in your silver Audi, waiting for your orders took you to the hospital and gave you a phone. _Your phone_ that was mysteriously charged. He said to call him if need anything or want to go anywhere. You only needed one person and wanted to be with her but before you could exit the car Mrs. Price called you. She said that Chloe was discharged and is doing ok. She thanked you for staying with her but also asked you to hold back for the moment because she shouldn’t be overstimulated. Which she always is when you around. Chloe's mum really said that. You were pissed and delighted at the same moment and kind of understood what Joyce meant. With no other viable option, you had to accept the Chloe-less reality and told Mr. driver to take you to school. So now you have your own chauffeur again, but something else provided quite ride till you’ve come here

It wasn’t without a struggle, but you have no doubt anymore that you’ve fallen in love for the first time in your life. Which would easily be the greatest thing that ever happened to you if you were an ordinary teenage girl. Except you’re not normal by any standards. You’re Victoria Chase. You have to admit though you’ve been enjoying the glorious part of being in love. Like thinking about Chloe warming up before the game without a need to hold yourself in check. So you could freely lust after her. You could also imagine how soft but daring at the same time her lips would feel on yours. Or just relish the thought of her falling asleep in your arms. But… There are so many buts and ifs and… _Fuck._ Maybe she’s only into friendship. Maybe Richard fucking W. Chase was right, and you simply don’t belong together, not to mention she still might be in love with the girl from Berlin. Or, maybe… _Fuck. Double Fuck._ You are perfectly aware that you are not going to propose her or anything but if everything goes well and she returns your feelings how the fuck you’ll be able to stand her ever dangerous lifestyle? Skateboard accidents, concussions, broken bones. If you see her unconscious ever again, it’ll kill you.

You enter the cafe and spot her sitting at the table. She's already made an order. Salmon sandwich and Fritz kola for her and coffee black for you. She still looks pretty battered and fragile. Leather jacket punk t-shirt and _I-am-super-tough_ attitude cannot deceive you. Suddenly you feel even more heavy-hearted.

“Vic, you look like a shit.” She smiles happily and reaches for your hand instinctively when you sit down. Damn. How much you love it when she teases and shows affection at the same time.

“Jeez. Thanks, Captain, obvious.” And you’d love to touch her, you’d love to be happy with her, but your brain stops you. First, you have to tell her. Something. Everything. Before anything could happen, you have to be honest about your feelings and your fears. But the truth is you have no freaking clue how to explain yourself. So you just do nothing.

“Heloooooo.” She intends to catch your attention and breaks the silence. “Did someone steal your cookie?”

“I was thinking about something. I am sure you can entertain yourself without me for a moment. Think about some football nonsense or like how safe and enjoyable is to be knocked down unconscious.”

Being harsh is probably not the best approach. Yet, you can’t help it. You desperately need proof, a confirmation that feeling like this is absolutely ok and right. You can trust your feelings only if someone else believes in you, believes those feelings are genuine.

“Whatever. I just thought you will be happier by this point.” She almost saves the day.

“Only a couple of days left, and you will be free. The contest deadline is on Friday. And then no more force talks, awkward interactions with me. You can go back to your life and never look back.” But ruins everything instead.

“HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?! Chloe, how can you say that after everything we've been through!?”

You are furious. Raging. You were about to confess you love someone and she makes fun of you.

“Oh, Goddess. It was a joke.” She tries to calm you and reach for your hand again, “Did you just say my name for the first time, ever?” but you see red.

“Of course I didn't.” _(You did actually)._ “And fuck your joke.” You step up.

“How can you be so insensitive, so fucking blunt. Is balancing between life and death a joke for you, too? So guess what? It fucking isn’t for me!”

Everyone is looking at you.

“What about you calm down? Seriously, Victoria, you are overreacting a bit.”

She stands up too and tries to sooth you again.

“What about you stop being an Idiot, Chloe.” _(Again)._ “For real. I saw you unconscious. Bleeding. I saw you lying on the ground lifeless. I saw you were loaded to Ambulance. I was there in the hospital when.. ..when… no one was able to reassure me I'm not going to lose you.”

You are WEAK, and VULNERABLE and ACTING LIKE A FREAK and it’s all because of Chloe Price. If this is being in love, you should definitely pass. You are fucking Duchess von Liechtenstein, you can’t afford to be frail.    

“You are not going to lose me, Vic.” She does her best to bring you closer, wrapping her arms around you perhaps but you’re not going to succumb for this time.

“Don't fucking Vic me!”

You push her away. “FUCK. This is madness, Chloe.” _(And again)_ “I can’t do this. I’m not going to do this. We are done.”  

“We are not done, and you are going to send Miss Hyde back to hell.” She softly touches your hand and stops you from leaving.

“I’m not your mother nor your servile minions. You know you can talk to me. So come on Victoria, tell me what’s going on?” Her words are resolute and committed, but right now you’re a wreck.

“You know what’s going on? It’s over. WE ARE THROUGH, and I’m going back to my life and never look back. Exactly as you wanted.”

You don’t know if you sound superior and bitchy or miserable an uneasy. What you do know is that you have to be out of here right away.

“That’s not what I meant!” She says a lot more, but you don’t hear it. You don’t want to.

You hop in the car and spat on the driver.

“Take me away.”

He obeys. At least something is still under your control.


	15. The girl who wants it so much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first part of the story I finished. This was the initial idea and everything that came next evolved around it. This is my version of Victoria Chase.
> 
> Something just like this.

 

**Thursday, November 21, 2013, Price House**

**6:47 pm., Willstätt, Germany,**

 

_Knock, Knock, Knock_

“Trev, I've told you twice I am not in the mood for watching half-naked Milla Jovovich slashing zombies.”

“Chloe, it's me. Victoria. Your brother let me in.” Shit, what the fuck is she doing here, you wonder. Your room is a mess.

“I’m… give me a sec.” You mumble trying to pick all the scattered clothes and make your hair to look less messy, but then you stop yourself abruptly. This girl has been an utter bitch to you. Why should you do anything because of her or for her? You leave your effort unfinished and open the door.

“Hi.” She wears no makeup. No fancy clothes. Only simple jeans and a black hoodie. The first thought that comes to your mind is that she’s beyond beautiful.

“Hi.” The second is that hoodie doesn't belong to her. It's yours.

“Can I come in?

“I don't know, Victoria. Can you?”

“Chloe, I’m so sorry for...so many things… Frankly, I've never expected... I just...”

“I’ve missed you.” You blurt. Fuck. Why? She is such a bitch. She doesn't deserve _I’ve missed you_ admission.

“I've missed you too.”

“Why are you here?”

“I thought maybe you want to see the photos I've picked.”

“Why would I want that? You are a photographer, not me. I am just some wanker. Stupid Jock. Tosser. Right? This is your project, not mine.”

“Chloe...” She just fucking stands there and does nothing. Like you are a mind reader or whatever and you should figure it out. Fuck it.

For six weeks she wasn't able to say your name, and now she uses it every other sentence. And it feels so great, but she doesn't have a right to do that after two days of radio silence. You break the eye contact and leave her standing in front of your room then collapse to the bed and close your eyes. You have no idea how to deal with this, with her. She better be gone in no time. You are sick and tired of _one step forward two steps back_ approach. Tomorrow she will submit those stupid photos and it will finally all end. The doors slams. It's exactly what you wanted.  Or maybe not. You roll on your side and have to squeeze eyelids tightly because tears are pretty adamant about finding their way out. And then unexpected movement disturbs your extorted fake tranquillity.  Someone is lying next to you. You cannot open your eyes because you still haven't defeated the freaking tears.

“Look at me, Chloe.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Of course. She cannot not be uptight and hold herself back for a one damned minute.

“Fuck your because.”  You are not going to open your eyes. Not a chance.

Her hand doesn’t hesitate to cross the unspoken border and even when you want to be reluctant, because… just because. Fuck. Her delicate fingers embrace yours, and you know you are fighting a lost cause. You succumb and let yourself take the pleasure from her thumb caressing the palm of your hand.

“Do you still love her?” Your eyes are suddenly wide open.

“Max. That's her name, isn't it.” You don't say a word. Not like you don't want to but you can’t.

“Of course, you do.” She is about to release the grip, but you won't allow her.

“Vic. Maybe before we talk about Max, we should talk about us.”

“I can't talk about us, Chloe.”

“Why not?

“Because if I do, I'll acknowledge _it's happening._ ”

“And it's a bad thing because?”

“Because of so many reasons you could not understand.”

“So when you reached for my hand a moment ago you did not acknowledge _it's happening._ Or when you freaked out, you might lose me after I got knocked down. Or when you change your phone wallpaper. Or when…” She catches you off guard. Before you have a chance to perceive what is going to happen thanks to one swift move she straddles you.

“Shut up, Chloe. Just shut up.” Then grabs your shirt and shifts you to sitting position with the utmost tenderness. Her face is millimetres from yours. You could feel yourself tremble. Her hot breath lays on your lips almost touching hers. She squeezes the shirt tighter but doesn't pull you towards herself.

“I don't think you realise how much I want this…” You will not allow her to say BUT.

“Not as much as I do.”

As you speak, she moans softly feeling your lips so close, and you are about to erase that shortest distance between you two. It's intimidating now when you stop pretending you haven’t yearned for this for quite a time. So does she. You want to savour every single second of this moment. That's why you are in no rush.  Your hands slowly find the way under the black hoodie. When you touch her perfect skin, the jolt of electricity goes through your body. The level of arousal hits the bottom. And then she bites her lips in the most sensual way. You are only 2 seconds before so much anticipated kiss. And you are so happy you could burst.

But the life shows you a funny way how to sneak up on you once more. Her phone rings and the kiss does not happen. Alanis Morissette would say it's like a death row pardon two minutes too late.  She separates from you, and it pains you physically. French by default. It must be her mother. You don't understand shit from the conversation though.

“I have to go.” Of course, she does.

“Go then.” You have enough of her family bullshit, and even when there is nothing you want more than her to stay, it's her decision, not yours.

She lays her eyes on you, and it's scorching. Fuck it. It's not you who ruin everything. What the hell does she expect?

“Well, I guess I’ll  see you later.” You two almost came to impeccable love confession or at least marvellous sexual encounter, and all that she can say is see you later. Oh, how lame. It pisses you to no end. And on top of everything she is not leaving just sitting on the edge of your bed. What does she expect you do? Doesn't matter, you're not going to do anything.

“Chloe...” She reaches for your hand again, and all her recent slips are forgotten. You move next to her never release the grip.

“Shit, Victoria, I can't stand this.” You sigh.

“Either admit we are happening or let me go.” She cannot hide from this anymore neither can you.

“We are happening. Fuck. We are. But that's the thing. I care about you a lot, and it makes me weak.” She raises her hand and cups your face.

“I am Victoria Chase. The daughter of the Duchess. I have obligations to fulfil expectations to meet.”  

You didn't need to be reminded her reality is beyond your reach. It sounds like you’ll never be enough for her. Suddenly her hand on your cheek is the last thing you want. She senses your doubts and softens her voice.

“The world around me full of endless demands, this game I'm in don't take prisoners, just casualties. I need to figure things out first. Till now, my recipe for survival was the right cocktail of stimulants and suppressants. Mixing MDMA and sleeping pills, being numb when the Duchess humiliates me and being the superior flawless heinous bitch when everyone expects me to fail has been my world before you. It is my world without you, Chloe.”

“Victoria...”

Your forehead rests on hers. You don’t know what to say but what you do now is you crave her. You shiver like that first night together, when you watched the Bladerunner. _Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it?_ _That's what is to be a slave_ said Roy Batty when she stared into your eyes. Now it’s her who’s speaking not Roy.

“No one ever made me feel this way. Not even close. Hell, I wasn't even aware I am capable of such feelings till recently. Not to mention your constant need to live on the edge is killing me.” She exhales wearily.

“And you should figure out some of your own issues too.” _Like what,_ you want to ask, but she's faster.

“Like casual sexual encounters with fangirls…”

“I haven't been with anyone since…” Since you've started working with her.

“...and unresolved romantic feelings for someone who is not me.”

“That's not fair, Vic.” Whatever additional words your brain intended to form are not going to leave your lips because her thumb gently strokes them and shushes you.

“As I said, we only can work if we figure things out. Step by step.” She removes the thumb.

“So do we have a deal?” Deal or not, you are looking at her lips, and she is looking at yours, and it’s pretty much obvious you’re done with talking.

Unfortunately, you are not going to kiss either. Before it can happen your idiotic brother rushes into your room.

“Hey Chloe, do you want pepperoni pizza or pineapple?”

“For fuck sake Trevor.” You jump from the bed and fight the urge to hit him. “First of all pineapple pizza is gross. Second, I want you to knock before entering my room.”

“Jeez, sorry. You swore you’re not banging her. Shit. I should know you were lying. I am out. Actually, I've never been here. Fuck. Sorry.” Fuck. He is gone, and Victoria is standing right behind you.

“I really have to go. But we will settle this. Have a nice evening, Chloe.”

She softly touches your shoulder, turns you a bit and leans closer. You can tell she intends to kiss your cheek. Without a second thought, you trick her. Your head move and your lips brush. Something inside you explodes. The massive shockwave of delight stuns you. Your wave either hit Victoria too or she is having her own explosion because she’s in a daze. You stare into her eyes, and there is one thing for sure. Nothing is going to stop you this time. In the end, it’s her who captures your lips first. She takes the lead even, and her hands on the side of your face are pulling you closer. You gladly allow her tongue to enter. She deepens the kiss and definitely enjoys herself being dominant. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of her lust and by the fact how much it entices you. She didn’t lie when said you have no idea how much she wants this. But you didn’t lie either. She doesn’t expect a counterattack, so there is no trouble for you to press her against the door and take control. She moans into your mouth, and it only makes you want her more. You unzip the black hoodie and takes it off. Your greed to have her is rising, it’s out of your control. But before you can push her into the bed, she breaks the contact.

“W-wait. Chloe, wait.” It’s definitely a struggle, but you do as she commands.

“Just… I just…we shouldn’t...not like this.” She pants. “I’m sorry.”

Damn. You wonder how you were able to hold yourself in check when she wanted to fuck for the first time, and you try to figure out how you’ll be able to do it now when she doesn’t. Because you’ve just realised your body is drawn to hers like to nobody’s else before. Cooler head prevails, you should know. And also it’s not only her body you’re infatuated with.

“It’s ok, baby. Don’t be sorry.” _Shit._ You have it bad for her.

“You-your ribs are fractured, and Duchess is waiting for me and…” She caresses the wound on your forehead and melts.

“You need to know I don’t want a quick fuck anymore. I want you, Chloe. All of you.” This girl never ceases to amaze you.

“Ok. Ok.” You nod. “As you said we’ll settle this.”

She subtly presses her lips on yours, then takes the black hoodie and leaves. You only realise later that it wasn’t the one you took off her. It was the one on your chair. You wore it all day so it still must smell like you.

  



	16. The girls who were set up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hug Victoria is thinking about happened in chapter 5. If you want to refresh your memories, by any chance.
> 
> Anyway, there is a dramatic principle called Chekhov's gun elaborated by Russian writer Anton Chekhov. He said:  
> "Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, it absolutely must go off. If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there."
> 
> It may not make sense now, as some elements of the story but it will eventually. I gave Victoria a weapon in the very beginning (pepper spray not a rifle) because she was always determined to use it. And she did finally.

**Friday, November 22, 2013, Wilstätt Academy**

**10:17 am., Willstätt, Germany,**

Bizarre. Yeah, that would be a proper description of what’s going on inside you. And outside. You thought about this day thousands time. The day when you give the perfect photo to Ms Kellerman and it secures you the eventual victory. You lost last year and weren’t crowned as the best young photographer. Even when you basically had no real concurrence far and wide and won the regional round, on the national level some Berlin hipster with her hipster pic beat you. Your photo was only the second best and you swear it was the last time you failed at something. That’s why when you imagined this moment, not a single thing was as it actually is right now. You definitely weren’t dizzy in any of your visualizations. Dizzy because the thought of Chloe Prices makes you weak on your knees. Had you not look on the phone with her picture on the wall a moment ago, you’d believe it’s dream. Hallucination. ‘Tis not. Your lips have not stopped tingling since you left Price house yesterday. Every time you inhale you scent her. Even when nor she nor the hoodie is around anymore. Never in the millions years you’d expect to feel like this, to want something like this.

You are supposed to feel different, your photos should be different and your belief in victory definitely ought to be unshakeable. Now when your photos finally have what they were missing before, something you didn’t even know existed, you somehow lost the tormenting urge to win. The first place is not the most important thing anymore.

Instead of obsessing about the victory, you think about Chloe. _(Obsess perhaps)._ You are going to ask her out. On a date. But you’re quite nervous about it. You’ve never done that before. Ask someone out. You never really yearn for such thing. Your dating history isn’t much better. Booty call or boy toy experiences are not exactly those that should inspire you. You remember how you tried to seduce the photography teacher when in New York because you thought as Alpha bitch candidate you were supposed to do that. _Oh how lame, Victoria._ You didn't even like that pretentious bastard but acted like you adored him. Thank fuck you didn't sleep with him. It doesn't make you feel any less embarrassed though. You better shun this memory as quick as possible. It’s in the past. That life it’s long gone, and you’re never going back. There is the date you need to plan. You don’t want to screw this up. It must be perfect. Fancy restaurant was your first thought, but the girl of your dreams wouldn’t feel relaxed in there, she wouldn’t buy such cheap tricks. Movie night or football game seems much more appropriate. You also think about flowers. She has this smug and tough attitude, but every girl loves them.

_Orchids? Exotic and sensual enough but scream luxurious, and that’s not Chloe’s thing._

_Tulips? Elegant and pretty but too simple for someone so complex as your favourite Captain._

_Only red roses can embosom beauty and perfection of Chloe Price. Many women are gifted with those only few are worthy. She is._

When you hand the application and portfolio for the contest to Mrs Kellerman you are hardly present. She basically chirps how happy she is you and Chloe were able to put your differences aside and work together. The admission she and Mr Kellerman paired you up on purpose because they believed you could help each other is lost on you. Your mind is elsewhere. You mumble something like _thx ma'am_ and take your leave.

You spot Chloe in the hall talking with Steph. Black skinny jeans and white tank top. No hoodie. Probably because you’ve stolen it yesterday. She speaks lively and gesticulates wildly. You smile and get all mushy.

It drove you mad before. But not in the same way it drives you crazy now. You thought Chloe Price was a pathetic wanker. Good for nothing dummy. Either brooding without a cause or picking groundless fights. You thought because that’s what the Duchess would think. You let yourself to be influenced by the callous woman who despises you and everyone else to despise the only person in the world who cared and made you feel special. Who stood up for you. The girl who might be stubborn and wild and reckless, who might look careless at first sight but hides the fearless protector within. Seeing her tall athletic body, thinking about the moment when she hugged you for the first time, when she dared to put those strong arms around you, you shiver. Mean, cold-hearted bitch. That’s how you acted towards her. Smug and overconfident, pushing her luck and enjoyed it greatly, was what she did. Yet, it wasn’t her who ruined your evening but the Duchess. As much as she could not give a shit, as much as difficult it must be for her, she sensed your unease, and instead of using such a great opportunity to mock you, she tried to soothe you. You bet she regretted it initially, releasing the secret protector when you around. You hope she doesn’t regret it anymore. You hope you are not one of the many for her because you want her all for yourself. You want to sneak up on her and hug her from behind. Kissing her neck in the process perhaps. You bet Steph wouldn’t mind. She and Taylor are not holding back showing such simple acts of affection recently. Unfortunately, you’re still Victoria Chase, that one thing didn’t change. You don’t have the luxury to do what you want when you want. You need to hold the decorum. But maybe a light squeeze of Chloe’s hand or caressing her arm would be harmless. Yeah, you’ll do that. You move towards them and feel beyond excited.

Richard W. Chase screwed up with the girl he loved, and she left. She left because she felt under pressure. He couldn’t give her what someone else could. But you’re not him. You can make this right. Failure is not an option. You got it under control.

 

* * *

 

 

You think about yesterday evening and this morning, about Max and Victoria and you know you have to talk with someone. Someone who actually understands how to do relationships and socialise with people more than you ever will even if she’s an actual geek. Now, you finally know what do you want and are also pretty sure how do you feel about the recent turn of events. Still, you yearn for the confirmation that your decision is not a sign of losing your mind. That’s why you seek Steph.

“Does it feel right with Taylor?” You practically jump on her.

“Are you high, Chloe?” You have to admit your over-enthusiastic approach can be misguided as MDMA abuse.

“No. But recently, I kind of want to be again.” Oh, boy how easy everything was when you didn’t remember most of your days.

“Is this about Victoria?”

Despite your complete inability to transform your thoughts into spoken language, Steph is trying to decode it. Only with limited success, though.

“No, it's about if it feels right with Taylor. You’ve been through a messy break up last year and said you want to be alone. You only blamed yourself for everything that happened and felt down. You said you probably never will be over your ex, and then three weeks ago you hook up with Taylor, and now you are crazy about her. Does it feel right?”

“It's only been three weeks, whatever it feels, it could be only an initial infatuation. Does it feel right with Victoria?”

“Max wrote me two weeks ago and again when I was in the hospital.”

You ignore her question and try to explain yourself properly. Max wants to be friends again, you should add. Because that’s the very important part of the whole interaction with Max. FRIENDS.

“Oh.” Steph probably wouldn’t do _Oh_ if you mentioned that friendship thing first.

“I didn’t read those messages until this morning.”

“And?”

“I thought I was ready because we finally kissed yesterday. Victoria and I.” You take a deep breath.

“So I called Max, and she picked up. She apologised for being distant. She took the blame and admitted it was difficult when we separated because she was in love with me back then and I left, and she didn’t know how to handle it, so she just cut me out. Kind of.”

And it was even worse when she started seeing someone else because she felt like she was betraying you. So she didn’t cut you because you did something wrong. She has her own issues. You are so in rush you skipped that essential piece of the story. _Damn Chloe, you are missing so many significant details. But you just want to have it out of your chest, so you think it doesn’t matter. Except it does. It will._

“Are you still in love with Max, then?”

“I’m so happy we finally talked and cleared things between us. You know I wanted it for so long, Steph. I dreamt about Max saying those words and now when it’s happening…” It all makes sense and you are ready to move on a be with Victoria, you plan to add but you never will.

“You, bitch! You were toying with me the whole time!”

She appears out of nowhere. How much did she hear? How long she has been eavesdropping? How unfair is all this! The point of the whole conversation with Steph was to reinforce your judgement that you and Max are ready to be friends again because the feelings of affection are in the past and you both fall from someone else. The look Victoria gives you makes it crystal clear that anything between you two just stopped being an option.

“Vic. Victoria, wait!” You grab her hand and try to understand what just happened.

“Let me explain.”

“You have exactly three seconds to get off me.”

“Vic, whatever you think, it’s not like that. I only want…”. Suddenly you go down and squirm.

“What have you done? You’re fucking crazy!”

You‘re are blinded, your lungs are burning, and you cannot stop coughing. The pain she has caused is tremendous. You curse her recklessness without realising that right now she is suffering much more than you do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get it. You hate me now, and you hate this chapter. But you know what they say. Rather be hated for who you are than loved for who you are not. Chloe would definitely agree. Not so sure about Victoria though, she's a bit conflicted recently.
> 
> (Btw, Kurt Cobain said that thing about being hated and loved, if you were curious)
> 
> Victoria has suffered her whole life. Her brain will not allow her to believe she can be finally happy. Not without a fight.  
> And Chloe. Can she really understand and accept the world full of endless demands Victoria lives in? Or will her feelings dissipate and never develop beyond an infatuation?


	17. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.
> 
> W. Shakespeare  
> As you like it, Act 5, scene 1

**Friday, November 22, 2013,**

**11:07 am., Principal’s office, Willstät Academy, Willstät, Germany**

 

When Arthur Kellermann received the message from his wife Katharina, the photography teacher he felt satisfaction. She was very confident in Victoria’s Chase eventual victory. It seemed like perspective photography student was finally able to unlock her true potential that wasn’t bound by her own relentless effort to seek perfection. Because the false perfection she was yearning for only existed in the world of twisted rules and patterns even she didn’t understand. So choosing untamed force of the nature to free Victoria from this pretentious world had been a natural choice. On the other hand, Kellerman's also hoped that their plan would work both ways and Chloe Price will be more comfortable with the fact that not all rules are twisted or plainly oppressive. It supposed to be a simple WIN-WIN situation because both girls were good at heart, even when sometimes they worked really hard not to show it. Comforted by the great outcome of his effort he was utterly misguided by the recent accident. The worst part was that Victoria Chase, always sassy and prepared to react remained silent. She was sitting in principal’s office for a good ten minutes, but he wasn’t able to get anything from her.

“Even with a good reason to attack Chloe with pepper spray, your suspension would be almost inevitable. So if you have something to say Victoria, please say it.”

Royal daughter didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. She just stared out of the window like she wasn’t even there.

At least Chloe Price finally arrived from the infirmary. Her eyes were still red and bit puffy, but the nurse did a good job.

“Please, join us Miss Price, and I hope you haven’t lost an ability to speak as Miss Chase, so you bring some light to the whole situation.”

Chloe sat down, but her eyes never left her attacker. As much as Arthur Kellermann tried, his effort didn’t bring any fruit. He was not able to decode a single emotion a single thought, and none of them was eager to share.

“Can we be alone for the moment?” That was all he got after another long moment of silence.

“Of course you cannot, Chloe. Do you think I am eager to allow bloodshed in my school?”

“No, but..”

“No buts. I need at least one of you to tell me what happened out there.”

It didn’t go unnoticed this request should not be opposed. Principal’s kindness and sympathy reached its limits. Victoria Chase understood that the moment her eyes met his. Those eyes bore no compassion anymore. There was none in Victoria's either. They were full of anger, and Arthur Kellerman realised something he never expected is about to happen. She will lose her temper. He wasn’t the only one who became aware of imminent catastrophe.

“Vic, please look at me.”

Young athlete whispered and tried to reach the aspiring photographer. This attempt was quickly dismissed with the obstinate wave of the hand.

“Did you think you could get away with it?”

Infuriated dark green eyes paid no attention to the person next but were rather scorching the man who had set up these events in motion.

“Excuse me, miss Chase?”

She exuded the raw, vibrant rage and it threw him off balance. “DID YOU REALLY THINK, THAT WOULD BE NO CONSEQUENCES?” The sharp voice got louder when she stood up.

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING WHEN FORCED US TO WORK TOGETHER!?”

Victoria Chase run amok. She went completely mad. Her breaths were quick and shallow. For the shortest moment it looked like she would not hesitate to slap the principal, but then she just calmed down like it was the most straightforward matter. Her voice became low and steady again.

“You know I can't change who I am. Neither can she.” She added the matter of factly.

“Expel me if you must. Evict my application from the competition. I don't care. I’m out. Farewell, Mr. Kellerman.”

She did as she said. The storm of emotions she unleashed lingered, and silence became unbearable. It seemed, however, none of them knew how to breach it.

“I’m allergic,” Chloe said, finally.

“What?” It was a very confusing statement.

“Miss Chase, Victoria, intended to show me her new fragrance. She asked me to scent it. And obviously, I’m allergic because I sneezed and got itchy and all those allergic stuff. It must contain some vanilla essence. Vanilla is my doom.” An attempt to lighten things up couldn’t work, it could even make principal angrier.

“Chloe, you do realise this is the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard?”

“It’s true Mr. Kellerman. It’s exactly what happened.” But the girl who remained didn’t plan to surrender. So not even he didn’t get any answers he ended with more questions.

“Seven weeks ago you said you rather vomit razorblades than work with Victoria Chase and now you’re lying to me to protect her when she attacked you with the pepper spray. I have witnesses.”

Why would Chloe Price endanger herself for someone who she despised a couple of weeks ago was still beyond him.

“What’s this about?” Nevertheless, he really needed to know.

“I told you. I was there, and they weren’t. Don’t expel Victoria. She...she did nothing wrong. She must be allowed to enter the competition. No one worked harder or deserve it more.”

“What about attacking you with a pepper spray?”

“She did no such thing, Mr. Kellerman. I am allergic to her perfume. I told you. It’s silly but that’s what happened, I swear.”

Chloe blinked a couple of times, and he would swear she’s fighting the tears but not because of pepper spray or allergy or any outside influence. He realised that what caused the sudden outburst of emotions is hidden deep inside of his two students and it was indeed him and his wife who brought it to life. Every action has consequences, and they hadn’t thought it through enough they didn’t expect such outcome. Victoria Chase was right. So how he could punish her when the fault was his own?

  



	18. The girl who went to Cologne even when she didn't suppose to

**Sunday, December 1, 2013,**

**09:21 am., Bundesautobahn 3, Germany**

 

“This is a fucking highway, not F1 circle you fucking moron.”

You shout. Being mad at retarded drivers seems to work. You need to release all the anger so you’ll be calm when you face Chloe. You look at vibrating hands-free kit and push the button on the steering wheel to accept the incoming call.

“Hi, Joyce.”

“Hi, Victoria. I just, I wanted to thank you again. If anyone can change her mind at this point, it’s you. William is out of town for a week, and she doesn’t listen to me anymore. I guess she never did.”

You guess Chloe never listens to anyone than herself. Like for example ten days ago when you told her, she has three seconds to get off you. She didn’t, and you pepper sprayed her, and it almost cost you everything. You probably overreacted a bit, but she hurt you like no one ever did before because you care about her like you never cared about anyone else. Surprisingly, there were no consequences. You weren’t expelled, your record remained clean, and Joyce has no idea what happened between you two because she still thinks you’re friends or something.

“Don’t thank me, yet. You know your daughter. The possibility she’ll do anything, someone else demands her to do is very close to zero.”

“I know. I know.” She sounds worried, and you simply want to give her something to hold onto.

“But don’t worry, my whole life has been mission impossible, and I’m still standing. I got some tricks up my sleeve.”

The truth is, you have no idea what you’re going to do. Especially when you promised not to say Joyce sent you. You just hope Chloe will listen to the reason.

“I wish you luck then and Victoria, I’m glad she has a friend like you. Someone who has her back but on the other hand doesn’t hesitate to be honest and say things that she doesn’t want to hear.”

You only gulp and choose silence instead of talking. Mr. and Mrs. Price has been nothing but kind to you. You on the contrary despised and manipulated their daughter at first, then wanted to fuck her, fall in love with her and hated her again because she broke your heart. Not to mention the pepper spray attack. If they knew, they would hardly consider you as her friend.

“I should not bother you anymore. You have to focus on driving. Bye.”

“Right. Bye, Joyce.”

You end the call and ponder. Is it because you were born and raised this way or because Chloe has this unstoppable urge to act like a fool, pushing everything to the limits most of the time? Or both. Is it why it’s so hard for you two to get along? Because you feel anxious when things are out of your hands when you’re not in control and because she always does the first thing that comes to her mind, never thinks about consequences, cannot stop being wild and impulsive. Or maybe the problem is you fall for her when she doesn’t give a shit about you. But if that were the case, she wouldn’t bother to cover for you when you attacked her or forgot to mention to her parents how much of the bitch you were. Or maybe Richard W. Chase was fucking right, and you are not supposed to be together. Your worlds are so different to coexist, and if you love her, you have to let her go. You guess you’ll find out soon enough. One, way or another three tasks lie ahead of you.

  1. Not losing your shits, no more hysterical outburst.
  2. Apologize for the pepper spray.
  3. Stop Chloe from playing today at any cost.



 

**Sunday, December 1, 2013,**

**10:14 am., Südstadion, Cologne, Germany,**

**1 FC Cologne vs. SC Sand, 2nd Frauen Bundesliga**

 

“Look at me, Chloe. Look at me!”

 “I looked at you twenty times in last ten minutes, I’m perfectly fine, doc.”

He apparently has to check you one more time. Even when you understand his concerns it has become quite annoying.

You were itching to be back on the field again. It is the only thing that keeps you going. You think it kind of always has been. Football helped you to leave your _take a walk on the wild side Era_ behind, and you ’ll never forget that. So when you were clear to play three days ago, it finally brought so much needed happiness. No girl in the world can change this. Not even royal blonde you can’t stop thinking about for the single moment. The game with Cologne, your biggest rival is crucial for the possible promotion. Especially when your team without you only tied last week. There is only one spot in Bundesliga and no place for another slip. You owe to these girls after you were planning to bail on them two months ago. Mum tried to talk you out of it. She said you act rushed, impulsive and reckless. As always, she added. You never do that. You are just straightforward. Fortunately, dad wasn’t around because he would definitely use his secret ability and made you reconsider your decision to play.

“What about the gear, does it fit?” Doc is pretty persistent. You growl because you answered this question at least ten times too.

“It fits just right.” You wear special compression t-shirt to protect your bruised ribs and Petr Čech style helmet to keep your head safe after the concussion.

“So you don’t feel any anxiety or post-traumatic...”

“Doc, I don’t even remember the clash. I’m ready to play and feel great. Both physically and mentally.” You don’t feel that great, actually but it has nothing to do with football or your physical condition.

“Alright, Chloe but if anything ask for the substitution ASAP!”

You nod and plan to put some music. There is still time left until warm up. You won’t though because there is a new message waiting for you.

_Meet me in the briefing room. _

You throw away headphones and cell and practically run out of the locker room. Like there was only limited time to accept the proposal and if you’d be late no one will wait for you there. She has been actively avoiding you for last ten days, and you didn’t try to approach her either. So you barely saw Victoria and didn’t talk with her at all. And now you’re alone in the same room. She wears white tied neck woven laced blouse with the black skirt and looks exquisitely beautiful as always. There is no pepper spray around, you can tell. That’s the only information your subconsciousness needs to assume direct control. Common sense is defeated in no time, and the pain she caused is all forgotten.

She probably wanted to say something but your hand on the back of her head bringing it closer provides distraction and your lips gently pressed on hers involve them in entirely different activity than speaking. Damn, you missed her. You feel yourself tremble. Your other hand slides under the white blouse and trace every bit of her bare skin. The kiss is unexpectedly tender and slow. It misses the greed and possessiveness of the first one. It’s like Victoria spent the whole day with some annoying royal bullshits you don't understand at all, but at the end of the day, she comes back to you. The moment she sees you all the tension and discomfort dissipates. Because you are her safe harbour. That’s how you feel, and you’re sure that’s how she must feel too.

“You’re insane, Chloe Price. Absolutely crazy.”

“I’m. Crazy about you, Vic.” You lean into the kiss again because you just cannot get enough of this feeling.

“You can’t...you can’t do this.” She put her head on your shoulder and squeeze you in the tight hug.

“I can and I will.” You whisper. “You must know I want to be with you and no one else. I do care about you, and whatever you think you heard, it wasn’t the whole story.”

“That’s… that’s not what I’m talking about.” She releases the hug and put hands on your chest. Her blue eyes are all troubled and vulnerable when locking with yours. “You can’t play. You can’t…”

“I’m fine. Doc cleared me to play three days ago.”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING FINE. Chloe, two weeks ago you were knocked down unconscious. For fuck sake, Dr. Ward said you could have the subdural hematoma. If you were fine, you wouldn’t need this.” She slams your helmet lightly and sighs.

“Why do this? Why put yourself in danger?”

“I’m not in danger. It’s alright, baby. Everything’s alright.” You attempt to press your lips against hers but she pushes you away, and her face hardens.

“Damn, Chloe! Two months ago you were ready to bail on them because some royal bitch pissed you. Now, when your own health is at stake, you don't even consider to stay out. Why are you so fucking stubborn?”

“I didn't abandon them then and will not stand them up now.”

“If not for your own sake do it for me then. If you care about me, you won’t play today.”

“You do realise that demanding something like this is incredibly selfish not to mention wrong on so many levels. I’m not your property. You can’t control me. You can’t give me such ultimatum.” Your chest burst into flames. She can’t be serious.

“If keeping you safe and unharmed is selfish I’ll gladly be the world biggest egoist. No matter what you think about it.” She steps aside, and her obstinate voice only fuels the rage inside you.

“Chloe, don’t play! Be pissed, hate me but don’t fucking play, holy hell.”

The more she pushes, the more distrustful you become. You want her to stop. You want her to understand what she’s doing and admit she’s wrong.

“My team needs me. How could you not see it? You being _every man for himself_ person doesn’t mean everyone is like that. If you cared about me, you wouldn’t blackmail me like that.”

“Bla-blackmail?” She stammers, and you hope she’s finally got your point.

“You know what, Chloe? Good luck on the field. I hope your team will win and you’ll do great. I bet it will make so many girls happy. Goodbye.”

Ok. Good. _Everything’s fine. She got it. Why you suddenly feel so anxious, then?_ You reach for her hand and hope for the best outcome.

“Wait! Does this mean, we are good?” The only thing that’s successful though is her attempt to avoid your touch.

“No, Chloe. Absolutely not.” Surprisingly, she does not raise her voice but your heartbeat.

“Since you relish suicidal behaviour or planning the road trips through the country and leaving everyone who loves you behind I to tend to believe you’d prefer someone who supports these imbecile and reckless tendencies by your side.”

She’s super calm, you on the other hand...

“Therefore, there is no WE.”

“Good for me.” You spit venomously. “I couldn’t spend any other second in the company of the control freak like you. Always obsessed with her own obnoxious rules.”

She shakes her head and leaves. It doesn’t stop you from releasing some more wickedness.

“So you can Fuck off, Victoria Chase. FUCK OFF, take your pepper spray and crazy damaged sociopathic personality and be finally gone from my life.”

You can’t believe you were so naive. You thought she came to apologize and support you. You should’ve known care in Chase language means _control_ . If she cared, she’d already understand how much the Victory against Cologne means to your team, to you. _Fuck her_. She pissed you so much. Anger feeds your drive and you use it to your advantage on the field. You go hard from the very beginning and don’t hold yourself back. The intensity you put in your first duel is maybe too much for your ribs but you can handle it. Your body can manage a little pain. So you go on. No tackle or interactions is too tough for you. After the first half, your biggest opponent is two goals down, and it only proves you’ve made the right decision and if Victoria doesn’t get it she better fuck off. You ignore the signals your sore and aching core is sending and starts the second half with the same enthusiasm. Seven more minutes is how much your body can manage. Not even adrenaline and resentment at royal bitch can keep you going anymore. Breathing is becoming almost impossible and piercing pain in your chest agonizes you. If you don’t want to weaken your team you have to be subbed off. You wave towards the bench. When off the field doc asks you about your condition, you lie but he knows better. You almost faint when he touches your ribs that are no longer only bruised but definitely fractured. He scolds you for pointless risking and being reckless. You tell him to fuck off too and recommend a look at the scoreboard. That’s the last thing you are capable of doing. Even when absolutely reluctant to admit you’re suffering, from this moment you entrust the doc with doing whatever he fucking wants with you. You’re loaded to the ambulance again but for now you’re fully conscious and aware of what happened. You hope for two things. That Sand will win eventually, so all this wasn’t for nothing and the analgesic they’ve just injected you will kick soon and stop the pain.

 


	19. Dear diary girl/Demon hunter

**The week between, December 8 and December 15, 2013,**

**Wilstät, Germany**

The school is the last place you want to be but after a week spent in bed _moving your ass a bit is advisable_ as doc said. Mum would probably let you stay at home for another week succumbing to your charm, but since she is super pissed with you because you played in Cologne and maimed your body, the Chloe Price magic is not working. So you sit on the floor above your locker and ostensibly throw the tennis ball against the wall. It causes the mild pain because of your still wounded ribs, but physical suffering is actually welcome. You need to numb the agonizing feeling of void inside of your chest. It’s been some time. Eight days precisely since Victoria kissed you and tried to manipulate you and you told her to fuck off. And she has done.

“Urgh.”

When the pain is too much to bare you put the ball back into your pocket and reach for the notebook right next to you. What you’re planning to do is super pathetic, but hey, you are a pathetic loser, so what.

 _Dear Victoria,_ you wrote and scratch it immediately. Are you really that desperate? Crazy? Angry? Losing your shits? Fuck it. No one will ever read it anyway, and you need to let it out. Through the week, it will become a habit.

**_Monday_ **

_Dear miss Chase,_

_you manipulative obnoxious bitch. I might spend my last week in bed suffering, but it was worth. I finally have time to play some Gears and Sand won yesterday because they were energized by the success in Cologne. It was super important for me to play against them even if it meant I couldn’t play yesterday because Cologne is way tougher opponent than Bad Neuenahr. But I bet you don’t know any of this because you are just some rich ignorant royal daughter. Anyway, it sucks, doesn’t it? That I won and you lost. I  bet I am the first person you tried to control_ **_but failed._ ** _Yeah, you fucking failed, I refused to fuck you, I didn’t obey you and I am not fangirling like your stupid wannabes. It must be eating you from inside because you cannot even look at me. You think your pathetic effort to ignore me works but guess what, it doesn’t. I know you’re thinking about me all day. But you’ll never have me. I don’t give a shit about you. You mean less than nothing to me. And this is the last time I spend my precious time thinking about you._

**Tuesday**

_Not so dear royal daughter,_

_you are plotting something, aren’t you? I know what I said yesterday about not thinking of you anymore, but there have to be some rules. You are the one obsessed with them so don’t break them. You are supposed to be down because you failed to control me and I am supposed to don’t give a shit about it not otherwise. So why are you all happy and light-hearted having fun with your pathetic minions when I’m brooding?  Especially that prissy religious chick, who just can’t take her eyes from you. And her hands. She touched your arm like thirteen times during lunch today. Not that I was counting. I swear if she is going to do that again I… I do nothing. Because I don’t give a shit about you or about how sexy you looked in a blue skirt and red long sleeves top with high neck. So stick to the rules Victoria! Don’t ignore me. Mock me, be superior, heinous but for fuck sake don’t ignore me. It’s against the rules of the universe._

**Wednesday**

_Hey Victoria,_

_you… still ignore me. Maybe it’s a good thing. When I do not exist for you, you cannot pepper spray me or pretend you care about me just to mess with my feelings. Like you mess with everyone else. You did it again. You made me think the whole ignorance thing is a set-up. But it’s not for this time, isn’t? You really gave up on me. You bumped into me at hall and you just left me hanging. No Hi, no angry look, no mockery. Nothing. So it’s not like after the pepper spray incident. You were avoiding me but I could tell how much it pained you. You were down and I wanted to approach you, to clear things out between us because you just jumped to the conclusion without hearing me. I would approach you.  Just needed some time. You had to come to Cologne and spoil everything, though. And now you just erased me from your life. If everything what happened between us means so little to you, you weren’t good enough to start with in the first place. Because I wanted to start things with you. I fucking lie to Kellerman after you attack me, to protect you. And you know what? I would do that again. That’s the difference between you and me. I would do anything for someone I care about._

**_Thursday_ **

_Hey Vic,_

_you really know how to be a showstopper. I would like to hate you again, believe me, but you are not making it any easier. Your choice of outfits drives me insane, and your lack of wickedness surprises everyone. I know you backed up Dana in Literature class. Trevor told me you gave her your essay when she missed hers for the third time. You saved her ass in imminent danger of failing the whole class. I know she is overwhelmed with the football duties and I also know you don’t give a shit about these things. So why you'd help and ask her to not tell? Fuck, Victoria._

_I guess it’s time to admit that maybe I overreacted a bit in Cologne, but you did the same when you overheard the conversation with Steph. I hate when someone is telling me what to do. You should already know that. And you did the exact thing. The game was crucial, I was stressed. And totally emotionally wrecked after the whole week without you. And then you dared to show up twenty minutes before the kick off and asked me to abandon my team. It really pissed me.  I should not tell you to Fuck off. It was rushed and stupid. I didn’t mean it, but hey, you pepper sprayed me, and it hurt like fuck, but I still forgave you. I mean you physically hurt me I only said some idiotic bullshit. Don’t you think I deserve to be forgiven too?_

**_Friday_ **

_Vic,_

_this is hell, you know. Everything sucks. I can’t play football for the moment, I can’t talk to you, I can’t even rub off and think about you because it’s not cool since I can imagine you’d not be particularly excited about it. Not that I would want to do that. Shit ok, I did. Fuck. I did it yesterday, and it was great and horrendous at the same time because, fuck. I swear I planned to think about Pris or young Dido but than the memory of you in pink satin shorts and skin-tight top appeared and I was busted. Yeah, ok I get it now I screwed up, and this is my punishment. This whole pining thing. I could have you, and I let it slip through my fingers. I am a wanker. But hey, at least I was good for something. Steph told me you’re going to Berlin on Monday. So it means you won. I am so happy for you. Wish I could be also happy WITH you._

**_Saturday_ **

_Hello Vic,_

_I’m at Steph’s right now. I fell for her deception when she said she needs me for the Diablo 3 tournament. You probably wonder why I’m telling you this. Well, you know Steph is the worst liar in the world. She always has her heart on her sleeve. So it didn’t take long after I showed up at her place and she spilt her guts. There is no Diablo 3 tournament she only wanted me to stop brooding and finally have some fun instead of hiding my head buried in an obscure notebook. The sole fact she attempted to lie to me not to mention I fall for it means I must be a real mess right now. I don’t freak out about it, don’t worry because when you freak out, you’re doomed._

_But since I’m not thirteen and you’re not a member of Fifth Harmony or another preposterous pseudo music construct (you way hotter than Camila Cabello by the way) I really should stop with this diary nonsense. I don’t know why I even started. Maybe I hoped it’ll help me to get over you. But I don’t think it worked. The whole thing made me realise I don’t want to be over you. I guess it’s too late for that._

_Fuck. If at least every radio in the world didn’t play 10 years old Dido song which is surprisingly all about us, that would be nice. Anyway, this is my last entry._

_I will go down with this ship_

_And I won't put my hands up and surrender_

_There will be no white flag above my door_

_I'm in love and always will be_

* * *

 

**Sunday, December 15, 2013**

**5:44 pm., Gingrich loft, Wilstätt, Germany**

Taylor Christensen was sitting on the floor leaning against the side of the bed. The search of the internet hasn’t been successful, and she didn’t find any good advice how to become a perfect Diablo player in three days or less. Steph, her girlfriend, taught her thing or two but she was a pro, real thing, the best demon hunter ever. A noob like Taylor simply couldn’t be a good player two for her. At least not yet. So she decided till she can manage to join the party, she plays another role, after party. When the raid ended Steph was always either overexcited ready to celebrate or in need to be cheered, depending on the result. Both could be effectively accomplished in the arms of her girlfriend. Taylor knew it’s going to happen soon enough because the red bar on the TV screen was decreasing rapidly and the speed of buttons pushing on the Xbox controller went insane. Browsing internet as a distraction had reached its limits, so she put the phone down and found something new. A notebook. It laid on the floor next to the nightstand, so she peeked inside. It was a diary. After the realisation, she should close it immediately, but the curiosity got the best of her.

“Holly shit. Chloe’s Price Diary.” She was so overwhelmed she didn’t realise it was said aloud.

Boss fight or not Steph jumped from the seat and pinned Taylor to the floor.

“You can’t read it T., if Chloe found out, she’d kill me. And you. And I don’t want that.”

The panic was averted because when in the vertical position it was almost impossible to focus on something else than each other.

“Because I kind of get used to have you around, you know.”

Said the gamer girl and didn't wait any longer to confirm her words with a searing kiss. As much Taylor wanted to succumb to the daring temptation because nothing felt better than Steph Gingrich in control bringing her to the edge, she couldn't. That diary must hide many interesting revelations. And some of those could help Victoria to finally get that football bitch out of her head.

“Steph…”

“Steph, we have to…” It took tremendous effort, but the girl on the bottom finally gather enough willpower to push the one on the top away.

“We have to read that diary.” The determination and commitment behind those words were strong.

“Yeah, really funny, T. You know I love your teasing games but this…you’re not kidding, aren’t you?”

Taylor Christensen wasn’t kidding at all. Her best friend Victoria Chase has suffered from a serious case of unrequited love and the more she tried to act it’s not been happening the more tormented she was. Taylor couldn’t confront Chloe openly, because she was Steph’s friend, and it would cause a whole range of trouble but if there was a proof in that diary that Chloe Price is a heartless player, manipulator and womaniser it could be used to convince Victoria it’s time to move on. It was the best plan, the best opportunity that appeared in weeks and it could work even when pure soul demon hunter like Steph was against invading someone’s privacy. A little bit of seducing or bribing with a promise of wild sex would do the trick. Puppy eyes too. But such a selfish behaviour is not something that should be done to the person you love, and Taylor knew that. Her motives weren’t selfish but the way to achieve the ultimate goal was, she realised when trying to explain to her girlfriend why is so important to read that diary.

“Alright. Fuck. You’re right kitty cat. Reading the diary is wrong. I will find another way how to help Victoria.”

Someone would say, so what. No big deal. It’s just a couple of rough notes jotted in rush. People love to put their private lives in the spotlight. We are living the times when social networking is flourishing. But not Steph. Reading the diary would be breaking the trust Chloe put on her. And she knew from the first hand being betrayed like that is the worst thing ever. That’s why she was appalled when Taylor brought the idea. And relieved when she listened to the reason. What she initially expected, what she had been used to before with her ex-girlfriend, _she-who-must-not-be-named_ , was quite opposite. But for this time Steph wasn’t misguided and manipulated to serve as distraction or random fun. Taylor never considered her as only some chick she placed beside her to take somebody’s place temporarily. And she also wasn’t the girl who set the forest in the fire or get into the fight in the club. Acting upon her emotion never meant Taylor goes crazy mental. In short she was nothing like _you-know-who._ Even when trying to hide it behind impetuous passion, it has been clear to Steph for quite time Taylor was serious about them. Her recent actions were enough of the proof and this course was about to continue.

“Shit. I’ll be honest with you. If I stay, I’ll be tempted to...to many things your valiant heart should not deal with...especially my obsession to know what’s in that diary. So I’ll better go. Have a good evening S.G.”

It wasn’t easy decision, but the content of the mysterious notebook was too tempting. Another issue, that likely to have unfortunate consequences, laid inside blond girl’s head, keen to be unleashed. So she grabbed her jacket kiss her girl goodbye and was about to leave. She didn’t, though. She turned back, intended to say one last thing and being drawn into an affectionate embrace in the process.

“And thank you for talking me out of it.”

“I thank you for… well, you know, for you being you and respecting me being me.”

“Well, that’s what you do, when you love someone. Respect them.”

It came out naturally but when Steph frowned Taylor realised what she did.

“I shouldn’t say that, should I? That I love you.”

Taylor backed off, and Steph did nothing to stop her. They’ve been together for only a month. Or it had been a month for one of them when it had been years for the other.

“Shit. I said it again.” This was precisely what Taylor wanted to avoid and failed.

“Look, Steph.” She inhaled deeply and started the speech she had been practising for zillion times.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry I said that. Because it’s true. And know this. There is no pressure on you. No expectations. Frankly, I’ve never expected we could be anything after the whole thing with your ex. I locked my feelings towards you in the safest safe and buried them in the deepest part of my heart long before you recognised I exist. So whatever will happen, it’s cool with me.”

She left a light peck on the lips of the girl she loved and smiled sadly.

“I hope I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait, T. Don’t go.”

Steph Gingrich had promised to herself to never fall in love again or let anyone make her believe she’s loved. She had never wanted to hear those words again because when it happened the first time, it was all lies. The love she had been eager to give was nothing but abused. _She-who-must-not-be-named_ had been careless when the beat kick in and careless when it left and careless all the way, still Steph hadn’t seen it until the end.

Even when she wasn’t sure it was different for this time, she couldn’t make herself to let Taylor go.

“I want you to stay.”

Not after what happened with the diary. So she reached for her hand timidly and pull her into the slow kiss. Nothing more was said that night, and nothing much accomplished comparing to their other nights. They ended up in bed but only snuggled and fell asleep eventually.

The other day when Steph came back from school Chloe’s notebook still laid on the floor next to her nightstand. She sighed and sat down.

“I don't normally get involved in other people's dumb decisions but hell, maybe this will help all of us.”

She was not surprised when it showed no proof of Chloe’s viciousness. Complete opposite.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Chloe is referring to is White Flag from Dido.  
> [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-fWDrZSiZs)
> 
> She-who-must-not-be-named is worse than Lord Voldemort (at least for me), that's why I didn't use her name, but I bet you know about who was Steph thinking. ;-)


	20. The girl who won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life is a game, boy. Life is a game that one plays according to the rules.”  
>  “Yes, sir. I know it is. I know it.”  
>  Game, my ass. Some game. If you get on the side where all the hot-shots are, then it’s a game, all right—I’ll admit that. But if you get on the other side, where there aren’t any hot-shots, then what’s a game about it? Nothing. No game.
> 
> **[/Holden Caulfield/](https://www.britannica.com/topic/The-Catcher-in-the-Rye) **

**Monday, December 16, 2013,**

**8:44 am., Wilstätt Academy, Wilstätt, Germany**

You are becoming old or something because you failed again in the vain attempt to deceive your parents to let you stay at home due to serious illness. _Lovesickness_ is not a real sickness said dad as he would know anything about the tragic case of unrequited love. He and mum are an epic couple. You turn and see him in the car watching you closely. Shit. He won’t leave till you be inside. Damn! You walk across the school grounds to the main entrance frozen grass cracking under your boots and are in no rush. If there were a prize for the slowest walk, you’d win it no doubt. You reach the door eventually but before you can open it someone else does that from the other side and bumps into you. From all of the people in the world, of course, it must be Victoria Chase. You stare at her, and she stares at you and Mrs Kellerman standing aside pretending invisibility waiting patiently. This is the closest you’ve been to the royal queen bitch since Cologne. Not only that, she’s looking in your eyes, so you exist for her again. It’s damned cold but you feel your hands sweating and your mouth suddenly so dry. The frequency of little cloud reappearing next to her soft lips suggests her breathing is a lot quicker than normal. You, on the other hand, are close to suffocating.

“Good luck in Berlin, Vic-Victoria.” That’s it. That’s what you produce with a hoarse voice so different than your normal one.

“Never needed it.” She responds too quickly sounding too high pitched. “Thank you, though, Chloe.”

You both said your piece, but none of you moves. It’s unknown what’s stopping her but the way she voiced your name awestruck you.

“I hate to interrupt girls, but we really have to go. We need to catch the flight.” You definitely forgot you’re not alone.

“Right.” Victoria moves but her eyes are fixed on you. It stays that way till the taxi she and Mrs Kellerman entered disappears behind the corner.

 

**Monday, December 16, 2013,**

**4:14 pm., Zeitgeist Gallery, Berlin, Germany**

“I am going to find out why the award ceremony rehearsal is delayed. Are you going to be alright, Victoria?” Mrs Kellerman looks at you with concern.

“Of course, Miss K.”

You give her a nod and slight smile. She has been acting super weird since you left Willstät. Constantly worried about your well being, asking you if everything’s okay. She even asked if you want to talk about what happened with Chloe. Damn. You were seriously considering it for a minute but dismissed eventually. So except her overprotective attitude your flight to Berlin went pretty smoothly. Funny, you barely could stand her a year ago. She was immune to your manipulations and always harder on you than on others. When you realised her critique wasn’t plainly mean act of superiority as Duchess’ but well aimed and actually helped you to be a better photographer you started to build this very tentative relationship with her based on trust. It surprised you, considering you’ve never trusted anyone but herself. You’re not sure if you already consider Mrs. Kellerman reliable though. It definitely felt like a betrayal when she forced you to work with your archenemy. Despite that, you are standing here in Zeitgeist Gallery in Berlin and in a few hours you’re going to be honored by the the 2013 best young photographer award. You move to the wall where your eight photos are exhibited. Comparing to your other works they not even look but also feel like they were taken by the different person. It doesn’t cause strange discomfort anymore. So many things have changed in you since October. And are still changing. You don’t understand who you truly are yet, but there is no doubt you finally know who you don’t want to be. Your mother.

“She’s is beautiful, isn’t she?”

You turn and spot some slender, freckled hipster in weird logo t-shirt wearing a set of ridiculous three coloured bangles on her right wrist. _Oh, how preposterous._

“Excuse me?”

She suddenly looks petrified. Hard to say if it’s because you actually responded or because she realises she said those words out loud.

“I’m-I’m sorry. I just...”

She stammers. Usually, you would say something heinous and mock this little lost fawn for even breathing the same air as you do but it doesn’t seem like something you want anymore. Recently you have no idea why you ever did.

“It’s okay. She is indeed beautiful.”

You utter and plan to leave the hipster to admire the girl who doesn’t love you.

“The photographer must be the real thing when capable to capture so many layers of Chloe Price. I mean the girl on the pictures. I’m Max by the way. Max Caulfield. The winner of the last year young photograph annual contest.”

Encouraged by your not entirely dismissive attitude, she becomes quite talkative and offers you a handshake. You can only stare at her in awe. Did she say, Max? That name has been haunting you for weeks. Could it be the same Max? She obviously knows Chloe. Could it mean she knows a thing or two about you too?

“I’m supposed to introduce a new winner. I’ll rather not though. Being in the spotlight is not my thing. Not at all.” She keeps rambling, and you notice the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Pleasure to meet you, Max. I’m V…Veronica. I work for the gallery.”

You finally remember the manners and accept the greeting attempt. But she doesn’t need to know who you really are. Not yet.

“So… do you know this girl? Chloe?”

Sometimes people are more willing to open with strangers they’ve never met. That could be your advantage.

“I used to.” There is a mix of happiness and remorse in her eyes.

The award ceremony rehearsal is far from the beginning, and you bet she wants to share as much as your masochistic part wants to hear about every single detail of Max and Chloe connection. But you cannot be too eager, you have to choose your words wisely.

“She seems like a very dynamic person.”

You look at the panel with the photograph from the game against Saarbrücken. Chloe is lifting the striker as the part of the celebration after SC Sand scored. She had no idea you were there when the picture was taken. Therefore she acted natural. It was probably the day when something shifted in your relationship. You had a normal conversation for the first time. She opened to you. A bit. And you stopped hating her. A bit.

“She was. She still is. I guess.”

“You guess?”

It sounds only mildly curious. Max, the hipster, doesn’t feel under pressure and is about to spill her guts. _Is it the effect of your photos? Do you really want to hear what she’s going to say?_ You don’t have the answers, but it’s too late to stop her.

So she talks about this wonderful friendship they shared from very young age. The bond that would probably go beyond playing pirates or innocent movie nights and sleepovers. But it never did because they separated. Max cannot explain why she became distant when Chloe was eager to keep their relationship alive and flourishing. She mentions several possible reasons. Being busy with everything else going on, the things that weren’t thousands of kilometres away. Being resentful because she wanted a real girlfriend not virtual one via Skype and messages. Being too tentative, not sure how to handle it, waiting too long to make a decision, to respond and doing nothing in the end because who doesn’t do anything cannot spoil anything. At least such approach seemed reasonable to her younger self. As much as you know from the conversation you eavesdropped a month ago Max finally made the resolution, and after the knockdown accident, she bared her soul to Chloe.

_Fuck. Just fuck this fucking situation and your fucking need to know fucking everything. Because fuck._

This little bitch. When she said her name is Max and you figured out, it’s _the Max_ you were almost pleased. That pathetic skinny self-conscious hipster couldn’t stand a chance against you, you tended to believe. Oh, how wrong your assumptions have been. After heartbreaking revelations it’s without a doubt there is no way you can compete with BFF’s, soulmates, star-crossed lovers getting back together. Not to mention this fragile creature is probably much better photographer than you. She won’t finish their story because Mrs Kellerman shows up.

“Victoria, here you are. Rehearsal will begin in no time. Come!”

Splendid. You have to participate in this evening in the state of utter mess. Thank God dealing with Duchess for years taught you how to hold the decorum even in the most mind wrecking situations.

“Victora? As Victoria Chase?”

Well shit. Someone just broke your cover. A lie has no legs obviously. But it served the purpose, right? You got the information you wanted. Or thought you want it.  Fuck this over talkative waif, why she couldn’t shut the fuck up? Maybe because you made her talk. Deep down you know there is no reason to blame Max for your bad luck and twisted life. For the defeat in the game, you were never supposed to win. But she is standing right here looking lost and puzzled when she has everything you ever wanted and will never have. The talent, the freedom of choice and the love of Chloe Price. It would be impossible to let her go without a pinch of mischievousness.

“Yeah, famous Victoria Chase. That’s me. Finally a proper winner of this competition.” You smirk.

“Bye, Max. And don’t forget to go fuck your selfie.”

You turn and leave with Mrs Kellerman who is not particularly satisfied with your little stunt. From the look on her face, she definitely doesn’t approve your lifted hand and stuck-up middle finger as a goodbye to your rival.

***

You went on autopilot through rehearsal and actual ceremony and successfully avoided Max Caulfield till she gave you the award. Everyone was charmed by your glamour, and you should be fucking delighted, but you just want to be gone. It all feels like a fucking rain on a wedding day. You are about to sneak out when someone crosses your path.

“Wait, Victoria Chase. Finally a proper winner.” Berlin hipster offers you a drink. “Glass of champagne?”

“It’s not champagne. It’s Prosecco.”

She cannot even tell the difference between those two and Chloe would still choose her over you.

“Whatever. It should be you who offer the truce not me, anyway.”

“And why exactly should I offer you anything, Max Caulfield? You beat me last year with your pathetic selfie, you have a love of the girl I desire when you were basically ignoring her for three years, and as a bonus, you weren’t raised by sociopathic parents who make you feel like you’re useless shit, no matter how hard you try.”

You don’t even want to be mean to her anymore. You resigned. You just want to be left alone.

“Considering, I was really nice to you today.” You wink. “Be, grateful. Not everyone is so lucky.”

You finish your drink with simple elegance and hand the glass back to her hoping she’ll understand this is your last goodbye.

“You are just like Chloe said.”

“A heinous bitch?” Against your own will, you respond to her bait.

“Well, that too, but also stylish, devoted and witty.” She compliments you, and she means it, but it’s not what gets under your skin.

“Did she say I’m witty?”

“Looking at you, now I get it why she fancies you so much. You are a mix of young Dido effortless grace and Pris vicious irresistibility. She had a crush on those two since she was six or something.”

“What do you want, Max?” You sigh. This game of hers is becoming too much.

“Our lives are shaped by events beyond our control. The choices we make can point us down one road or the other, but where the road ultimately leads…” And she keeps rambling.

“What about you discuss this with some of your hipster friends who are into metaphysics and philosophy later and skip to the point for now.”

“The point is that Chloe and I are friends again, which is great but we had to move on. I am with someone else, and she is finally ready to be with someone too.” She hesitantly puts her hand on your arm, and it feels weirdly comforting.

“I am not your rival Victoria. I want Chloe to be happy. And she wants to be happy with you. I will always love her as a friend, and maybe there is even some alternate reality where we ended together, but it’s not this one.”

You look at her then on her hand on your arm and then back, and suddenly it hits you. She just gave you a blessing. _What the hell? How much does she know? About you. About what you and Chloe have been through. About..._ You cannot even guess, but there is no doubt Max knows everything about Chloe. You’d be crazy if not try to expose at least a bit.

“Did she always act reckless and pushed it to the limits?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what she did. Always.”

“How could you stand that?” You almost beseech. Damn. “I mean, how it’s possible to not freak out with her being on edge most of the time, putting herself in danger.”

“You have to trust her. Just believe she knows what’s she doing. And... well, be there for her when she crosses the line, to pull her back. But never make a fuss about it. She admits if she was wrong. Every time. Probably later than sooner, but she always does.”

“That hardly could serve as appeasement but for what it’s worth, thank you.” You sigh again, and if she wasn’t aware how much Chloe means to you before, she definitely is now.

“You’re welcome.”

“Why are you supportive anyway?”

“Because Chloe cares about you and from what she told me...what you just said I believe you care about her too.” She blushes like she just unveiled some secret love affair.

“I do.”  There is no point in lying, but despite your very candid conversation you do not desire to bare yourself anymore or socialise any longer.

“Look, Max Caulfield, you actually aren’t as pathetic as I thought and maybe I’d like to hang out with you, but even if I’ve changed a lot in the last couple of weeks, I still cannot imagine rubbing elbows with a Berlin hipster. Maybe in one of your alternative realities. So take care and be a good friend to Chloe. I should go, now.”

“Bye Victoria Chase. And remember, if you hurt her I will not hesitate to shatter time and space to find you and make you pay.” She tries really hard to look intimidating. She actually does. But you won’t acknowledge her you noticed.

“You’re quite funny, hipster, I give you that. _Au revoir_.”

 


	21. The mad girl

**Friday, December 20, 2013,**

**3:14 pm., Chase Manor, Strasbourg, France**

It’s kind of cute. The way she tries. Cute but annoying. Maybe she still feels like she owes you for throwing that party for her. Or maybe she is just a really good friend and wants you to be happy. She showed up with a couple of dresses and asked you for your opinion which one she should wear for the Winter Ball. What a lame excuse. You know better why she came. To make it sure you’re going to attend the evening gala and look stunning and finally settle things with Chloe.

“Nice try, Taylor. But I am not going to linger. So it means five minutes on the stage for Kellerman congratulation speech. Not a single more moment.”

Chloe won’t be there anyway. You cannot imagine she would attend an event like Winter ball. _Obnoxious. Preposterous. Boring._ That’s what she thinks about similar happenings. You also have no desire to look stunning or be in the centre of anyone’s attention. So you gladly pass.

“Steph is with Chloe right now, making sure she’ll show up. You two need to talk, V.” Your best friend drops the act eventually and somehow sees right through you.

“Urgh…” You can’t believe she dared. “It’s none of your business. Nor your girlfriend’s. Not to mention Chloe thinks I am a sociopathic controlling bitch. Which I probably am. If she would not mind this significant trait of mine, she approached me already.”

“She doesn't think that. She misses you. And she is sorry.”

“As I said, nice try Tay, but last time I checked you weren’t a mind reader. And even if she felt like that you are the last person she’d share with.  So I pretend you didn’t say that and won’t be mad at you for lying to me and being incredibly nosy.”

“She writes some kind of journal recently. They were hanging out at Steph’s, and she forgot it there. Of course, my little geek didn’t notice. I found it and wanted to read it, which Steph resolutely dismissed. Long story short, her pure heart made me over emotional, and I told her I love her and she didn’t say it back. She read the journal, though, eventually. And that’s why we’ve hatched this plan.”

She looks a bit scared, a bit determined and a bit wary. You can be a real bitch when things are out of your hands and plotting behind your back is exactly out of control situation. But you cannot be mad at Taylor. She could leave you behind and live happily ever after now when she has Steph by her side _._ Instead, she risks your eternal rage in the vain effort to find happiness for you too.

“You know what, pick whatever dress you want.” You say softly dismissing the previous topic.

“You have so much better fashion sense than I do.”

“That’s not true.”

“Tis’. So wear what you want. But think about your silly nerd too. She has to like it. It’ll be her who’ll undress it, after all, when finally whisper the L word into your ears.”

You smirk, and she blushes like a crazy. You’re not quite sure why. You bet they fucked zillion times already. It’s obvious from the lustful looks they giving each other. You’d consider it revolting if it was someone else but you’re happy for Taylor. She deserves being adored. And even when cheeky geek may not fully admit it to herself, she definitely adores your BFF.

“I’ll bring something to drink. You can check with your beloved lady in the meantime and figure out your plan is not working because there is no way Chloe will show up tonight.”

You leave the room and seek for a Champagne in the cellar. On your way, you experience unexpected encounter.

“Vicky, can I speak with you.”

Richard W. Chase appears out of nowhere. He does that recently. You have seen him more times since the hospital confrontation than you did in last five years.  And his driver is still assigned to you. His involvement would have been bizarre even without the whole mess that’s happening between him and the Duchess.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

Another unprecedented thing has become quite usual around Chase Manor. You show your parents no respect. Your mother is plotting cruel revenge that’s for sure, your father though… You can only guess what’s his real agenda. You may even not ever see him again after today.

“Are you and Taylor preparing for the Winter Ball? There’s no doubt you are going to look magnificent. I bet that young lady, your girlfriend would be delighted when she’ll see you. Chloe, right?”

“You should do your research properly, father. She is not my girlfriend.”

Somehow you curse all those times when you wished for not being ignored by him because this is rather awkward. It doesn’t stop your newly found sense of sarcasm, though.

“Thanks to you and the Duchess I’m entirely mad. The heinous sociopathic bitch. There is nothing about me someone should appreciate.”

You don’t sound angry. It’s just a statement.

“Now if you excuse me. I am going to pick my dress for the evening _without any girlfriend._ Nothing important, don’t worry. The principal will only congratulate me in front of the whole school for my victory in the young photograph annual contest. No big.” You are about to leave when he revives his business attitude.

“I think you are right about one thing.” Damn, it’s quite a time, you heard this cold belligerent tone of his voice, but it won’t startle you.

“Your mother and I should be ashamed. We are horrendous parents and didn’t give you much. But you are also wrong about many others. You, Victoria have so many extraordinary qualities. And _SHE_ definitely sees and appreciates them.”

The anger he has harboured and showed is surprisingly not aimed towards you but towards himself. You still have doubts about the sincerity of his effort to be a decent father, but you also know if he would want Chloe out of your life for whatever reason she will be gone already. Shipped to China or New Zealand. Patience has never been his asset. One way or another you have to stay vigilant around him. You almost say something not mean, like _have a nice evening father_ but you won’t. Just leave him without a word. Whatever will happen he won’t be there to support you. He never was.

* * *

 

**Friday, December 20, 2013,**

**3:14 pm., Price House, Wilstät, Germany**

It’s kind of annoying. The way she tries. Cute but annoying. Maybe she still feels like she owes you for taking her to that party. Or maybe she is just a really good friend and wants you to be happy. She showed up all fired up with the blue dress _(for you)_ and did not hide for a moment why she came. To make it sure you’re going to attend the evening gala and look stunning and finally settle things with Victoria.

“Nice try, Steph. But I am not going.”

Victoria definitely will be there, but even if you wanted to approach her, it would be impossible. You bet the Royal queen bee will be on top in the centre of everyone’s attention and that’s precisely the last place you desire to be. So you gladly pass.

“Taylor is with Victoria right now, making sure she won’t leave immediately after Kellerman’s speech. You two need to talk, Chloe.” Your best friend sees right through you and keeps being pretty persistent.

“Urgh…” You can’t believe she dared. “It’s none of your business. Nor your girlfriend’s. Not to mention I am a useless wanker. I screw up everything I touch. Even if I knew what to say to Victoria, I doubt she’d be happy to listen.”

“She doesn't think that. She misses you. And she is sorry.”

“As I said, nice try Steph, but last time I checked you weren’t a mind reader. And even if she felt like that you are the last person she’d share with. So I pretend you didn’t say that and won’t be mad at you for lying to me and being incredibly nosy.”

“You know I’m dating her best friend?”

What kind of question is that? You roll your eyes. Of course, you know. They are so in love you had to be blind, deaf and buried six feet under to not notice.

“When Taylor was in the shower her phone beeped like five times and after... after how my previous relationship ended curiosity got the best of me. It was only Victoria, but I still couldn’t help myself and read the whole thread, and it was all about you.” She bites her nails and looks guilty.

“So that’s how I know. And you can punch me if you think I it’s none of my business and I overstepped the boundaries because Taylor wasn’t even angry with me after I told her what I did. She said it’s fine because she has nothing to hide from me. Sometimes I really think I don’t deserve...” She sighs and frowns, and you hope she doesn’t doubt herself, again.

“Stop! Come here, weirdo.” She’s stiff, so you move and gives her a crushing hug.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“So do you, Chloe. Come to the ball, please. Please.”

“Ok, ok. I’ll come if you stop pestering me about it.” Her vulnerability softens you eventually, and you almost don’t regret it when you see her all cheerful.

“Yes! Yes!”

“So who’s idea this whole madness was?”

“We both…” You can hardly believe that, and your eyes say so. “Taylor’s. But I agree you should settle things with Victoria. The reason why I am no fan of this plan is only that I know how reluctant you are to do anything someone else demands.”

“True. So your girl picked the dress too, I suppose.”

“She did. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“She came with the plan, she picked the dress… You have been a bit hen-pecked, haven’t you Stephanie Gingrich?”

“Shut up.” She pretends to be angry, but you know better. And you won’t budge, only smirk because you’re right. And she knows it too.

“So what, maybe I am. She’s perfect, Chloe. You asked me a month ago if it feels right. I wasn’t sure, but now I think I am. She’s such a pure soul. No offence but I would never expect that from Victoria’s second in command. Jeez, I’m so busted.” She is, so you’ll give her some alone time.

“I’ll bring something to drink. You can check with your beloved lady in the meantime and figure out your plan is not working because there is no way Victoria wants me back.”

You leave the room and hope for the bottle of Vodka but Dad is at home, and he wouldn’t appreciate you getting wasted. So when in the Kitchen you prepare two lemonades with ice.

“I remember the times when you mixed lemon juice with vodka rather than water.” How he’s done that? A moment ago he was lying on the couch napping, and now he miraculously appeared next to you.

“Well, I would say I remember those times too, but I kind of don’t because of constant intoxication. So the lack of those memories is probably a good thing.”

“I’m proud of you sweetie. You’ve come a long way.” He kisses your hair and is about to leave.

“Dad…” He won’t go, though. “You’ve never given up on me and instead gave me so much. You and mum. Still, I did so many stupid things, and I hurt you and… I’m such a psycho sometimes. Crazy Chloe, totally bonkers, absolutely mad.”

“Yeah, but I will tell you a secret, all the best people are.” He smiles, and you are astonished by what he says and fall into his arms.

“It’s her favourite book.” You nuzzle deeper into the hug and sense his confusion. He probably has no idea the words he used reminds you of…

“Alice adventures in wonderland is Victoria's favourite book. I guess you have no idea why I’m telling you this...” You gulp and feel your eyes stinging.  What a silly game of fate that allowed him to use those exact words to soothe you.

“Anyway. I should go. Steph made me go to the Winter ball. I should go dress or something.”

“So what’s going on between you two? I didn't see Victoria around much. And your mum told me about Cologne.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s going on. Nothing happened in Cologne. She submitted photos and is back to her _Priceless_ world.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied by your answer.

“We only know how to hate each other...or compete in sabotaging ourselves, so it’s better this way, I guess.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you expect me to say, Dad? That I want to be with her but have no freaking clue how?”

“If that’s what you want.”

You shrug your arms.

“Whatever you’ll decide, Chloe, I’m here for you.” He kisses your forehead, and you realise how great it is to have him around. He always backs you up.

“Thanks, dad.”

When on your way back to Steph you think about how he encouraged you to work with Victoria in the first place because he believes everyone is good at heart it just has to be found. You strongly disagreed but listened to him eventually, and it opened your eyes. Now you know the things are not quite as simple as black and white. Of course, no one could have predicted you fall for her. But as your dad said, no matter what will happen he’ll stand by you. He always did. And it gives you hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe you noticed, maybe not but according to a lot of references to Alice adventures in wonderland everywhere in the story I might be an avid fan of the book :) But this particular chapter was rather influenced by the episode of Once upon a time Girl in the Tower than the book itself.


	22. The one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what, if you are still reading you’re the real MVP. Thank you for sticking around. Like really, thank you ever so much. It has been a long way. But I loved every moment of it
> 
> Anyway, I suppose this chapter could be rated Explicit. You’ve been warned.

**Friday, December 20, 2013, 8:14 pm.,**

**Wilstätt Academy Gym, Wilstätt, Germany**

**Winter Ball**

You never attended any school gala, and you thought you never will. Such events irritate you. Mildly speaking. Yet, here you are. What kind of masochist you must be? You look at the temporary stage once again before the departure. Principal Kellerman is widely popular and liked because he is not an asshole like the majority of the teachers but his speech about whatever is mostly ignored. People came here under the promise of booze and hookups, not because of dull orations. He even wanted you to be on the stage too, but after the incident with the allergy to perfume, he accepted your no thank you without a complaint. When he finally congratulates Victoria for outstanding representation of Wilstätt Academy and victory in the young photographer annual contest you turn around eager to leave.

“You promised to talk to her.” Fuck. Steph is still behind you. You hoped she'll disappear soon enough in some dark corner with her sweet barbie girl Taylor but no. Damn, her.

“I did not.” You agreed to come and wear this pathetic blue dress only because you wanted to shut Steph up but you never said anything about talking to Victoria.

“And I already did what you asked. Therefore, I’m leaving now.” You wink and smile, and she knows you won.

“You tricked me!”

“I only outmatched you in your own game. So would you kindly let me go now and go find your lovely girlfriend? I bet she misses you.”

“You could have a lovely girlfriend too, you know. If you just talk to her. Chloeeee.” She means well, but you are a fucking coward, and surely Victoria would hate to be called lovely.

“Bye, Steph.”

You find your way through the crowd, but before you’re out of the gym, your body stops moving. Just like that. What a traitor. It’s because of Victoria’s voice spreading across the room. She’s a bit snarky a bit witty and really glamorous. Her effortlessly stylish look created by black tuxedo with rolled up sleeves and nothing under attracts hungry stares. Including yours.

“Thank you, principal Kellerman and also to your amazing wife, exceptional photographer and teacher. But I bet no one sane doubted that only the royal queen bitch herself can win. Especially when I was obliged to work with the biggest pain in the ass.” You have to laugh. She is not uptight neither overcompensates as much as usual.

“Who also happens to be a great inspiration, outstanding friend and unbreakable fighter. So if you’re a useless shit who doesn’t stand for nothing and falls for anything, like most of you definitely are, look up to her. She always takes a stand. She always rolls. Be inspired!” She seems proud. Proud of the person she’s talking about. _You._

“But not with her fashion sense and taste of music. Those are horrendous. Anything but that.” She smiles, and you almost melt.

“Anyway. Have fun tossers but not too much, we don’t want to piss the best principal in Germany. Oh, and one last thing. I decided to step down as a high school president and also as a queen bitch. So, ladies, the game is on. Let the best bitch win! Victoria’s out.”

She leaves the stage, and as much as you’d like to follow, you lost track of her. So many people around. You growl in frustration.

“Now you regret, you’re not banging her anymore, don’t you? That tux is to die for.” The voice is slightly taunting but also properly sympathetic.

“I haven’t…” You sigh. “Whatever. Just leave me be, buddy or I’ll tell Dana you ogled Victoria.”

“Hey,  chill out. I didn’t mean to pry. And I didn’t ogle her. Just the tux. What about the truce? Orange Juice?” ” Your brother offers you a plastic cup with definitely not non-alcoholic liquid.

“Orange juice?” He nods so it means plenty of alcohol. “Okay, then. Why fucking not.”

“Look, Chloe, I know I suck with words, but we can play some gears or streetfighter tomorrow if you want. And Dana has this cousin or friend of her cousin or something. She’s a swimmer from Freiburg. I think you would like her. Maybe we could set up a double date and hang out together. Or maybe…”

“Thanx, Trev but I’m fine. Really.”

When you say that, you believe you’re getting there, but then you spot Victoria talking to Courtney and Taylor. You cannot take your eyes off her. Somehow she knows because she looks your way. Your mouth dries. Emptying the cup of orange juice does not help much plus it tastes revolting.

“Actually, do you have more of this? Two more, precisely.”

You give the cup back to Trevor without breaking the eye contact. He mumbles something and after the moment brings what you asked for. As oblivious as sometimes he can be for now it seems he is aware of what are you intend to do. He may even give you bunch of supportive words, but it’s lost on you. Everything except Victoria is. Maybe she feels the same. You hope she does. You see her mouth moving, forming sentences but her mind is on you. Her eyes are linked with yours. The distance between you is narrowing. You barely register Taylor dragging Courtney away.  

“Hey.”

She says softly. You unconsciously place yourself next to her instead of opposite. Maybe because looking in her eyes and talking to her at the same time is too much. Or perhaps you just prefer the angle that reveals more of her naked body.

“Hey. Fancy a drink?”

You glance her way again. She’s without a makeup surprisingly and looks exhausted. You think she is the most attractive person you’ve ever met, anyway.

“What’s in it?”

Wish you had a glass of champagne instead. Unfortunately, it’s only… “Orange juice. And lots of probably very cheap vodka.”

Damn, how could you expect to impress Victoria Chase with some dubious drink? You had plenty of time to figure this out, to prepare some Shakespeare poem or bring a bouquet of orchids but this is the best what you got. Damn, you Chloe.

“Fuck it. Just give it to me.”

She takes a cup and drinks it subsequently. Your gaze intense on her lips makes you shudder. When it flicks down to her bare skin under the tux, you feel weak on your knees. Of course, she notices.

“So, it took you only four weeks to approach me. With such enthusiasm, I can expect a proposal in my late eighties perhaps.” She teases. It sounds lighthearted, but there is a hint of bitterness behind her words.

 “Well, Victoria, maybe your previous lovers enjoyed being pepper sprayed, but I do not. So pardon me, if I wasn’t too eager to be in the range.” Damn. You are not without a fault, but neither is she.

 “I’m a woman. You hurt me, and I acted hysterically. As much as I am sorry for doing so, you could have predicted that.”

She says as her hand reaches for your chest and lingers. After your curious look, she tries to remove an inexistent piece of dirt from your dress.

 “You are infuriating. Are you saying it’s my fault?”

You are not mad, but she cannot get away with this. She not only blames you for her own inability to handle affection for you but also came with the lamest excuse to touch you.

“More or less. Yes.” She smirks.

“And how the hell I am responsible for you stubbornly refusing the fact that I do care about you? You’ve grown up on me, Vic and being with you feels amazing. Mostly. When you’re you not a bitch you think you are supposed to be.”

“But…”

“And rather than seeing how crazy I am about you, you pointlessly try to find a reason why we can’t work.”

Damn. You want to shake her and bring some sense to her finally. And Kiss. You definitely want to kiss her badly.

“Chloe, you basically told me I’m selfish and accused me of emotionally blackmailing you when I wanted to stop you from maiming your body. _Fuck off and be gone_ doesn’t leave much room for interpretation either.”

“I was exhausted and stressed and angry. I’m sorry, okay? I really am.” You dare to look at her and sense the vigour. It means she is not done, yet.

“Ok, if I forget about you telling me to fuck off just tell me how the fuck could I understand what’s going on with you and Max? You always shut me down when I touched the topic. I had to talk to her, for fuck sake, to have some insight. How the fuck could I know you care about me? I’m not a fucking oracle. You hated me not long ago, remember?” She sighs and shakes her head sadly.

“Fuck. I didn’t come to fight, Victoria.” You do the same.

“We really have to stop…” She starts “...hurting each other.” You finish unison.

“Look at them, they make it look so easy, don’t they?”

You point towards Steph and Taylor. If happiness had a physical form, it would be them right now. They ignore the dance music and crowd around them, swaying in their own rhythm. It’s hard to believe that not long ago your geeky friend was completely heartbroken after the messy break-up and refused to believe in love again. She went through hell but now the way blond barbie looks at her is something you’ve probably never seen before. It’s boundless adoration. Something that couldn’t be built in a couple of days or weeks.

“Did you know Taylor…” You begin, but this time it’s her who complete your sentence. “...have been in love with Steph since forever? I had no clue because I’m probably the lamest friend ever. I basically found out by accident. Your accident.”

Victoria’s hand slips into yours intertwining fingers. You didn’t expect such move at all and shiver. Her eyes are still fixed on Wilstätt new favourite couple, though, maybe thinking why you are not able to walk in their shoes. Till they lean closer and start kissing slowly. That moment is theirs only. So your companion shifts and you feel being drawn to her. It startles you.

“Any chance, you can bring some more orange juice and cheap vodka?” But when you realise she doesn’t intend to kiss you only gives you an empty cup. You suddenly feel down.

“Sure.”

She must know. You can’t hide the disappointment. You free your hand and take the cup anyway. When you find Trevor in the hallway, he is involved in interaction with Dana you definitely don’t want to interrupt. Yeah, it’s official everyone knows how to do relationships except for you and Victoria.  But to your defence, they all probably play on easy when the difficulty for you two was set to insanity from the beginning. Thanks to your stubborn borderline personality and her nurtured sociopathic tendencies. Fortunately, you bump into Justin and lads who gladly refill your cups. Yours twice, because you need a bit more of the liquid courage for what are you probably supposed to do. Approaching Victoria, you ponder if one of the reasons you despised her so much were repressed feelings of sexual attraction. Because now when you finally and most likely do not repress any feelings towards royal queen bitch you feel an insane need to have her. Part of it is a selfish desire. The other part though is very different, quite advanced compared to simple lust. And this part of you wants to wrap your arms around her waist and stare at her the same way Taylor Christensen stared at Steph Gingrich. You hand Victoria the cup, and she deliberately touches your fingers when she takes it. Damn. The heat wave of arousal starts deep inside you and overflows your whole body.

“Why did you come then?”

“What?” She probably says something, but you’re completely dumbfounded by the contact.

“You said earlier you didn’t come to fight, even when that’s what we always end to do. Why did you come then?”

“Because I missed you. Because you became a part of my life and against all odds I loved it. And now when you’re not, I want you back. Because when I look across the room, and I see you there, I am stunned by your effortless grace and vicious irresistibility. And I want you to be mine. I want to step in and take you away. That’s why.”

It’s out, and you finally take a breath. Oh, Goddess. You just entirely negate two most typical still mutually inconsistent traits of your personality when you admit how much you still want to be with her. Your pride and your self-consciousness.

She leans closer, and her lips touch your ear. “Take me then. Take me away and make me yours.”

And then you don’t have the slightest clue what you’ve done or what are you planning, but you’re hand in hand in the hallway rushing to the exist. Sexual and emotional part of your attraction unleashed the hell of the fight inside you. Should you push her into the bathroom and fuck her right away or take her home and make love with her all night? That’s the question.

“My car is in the parking lot.” Fuck. Why she says that?

“We are not..” you stop and pant, “ not going to fuck in the car.”

Victoria is not some cheap one night stand. You won’t do that. Oh, but you’d love to.

“Of course not but we can drive somewhere with bed and temperature above zero, perhaps.”

She smiles and says like it must be obvious that’s what she meant from the beginning. You smile back awkwardly, exit the building and lead her to the car. It’s super cold outside. The emotional part is winning imaginary war and bids you to stop.

“Wait...you can’t drive. Neither can I.” Oh boy, this crazy infatuation transformed you into such a softie. To prevent her from reaching the car you bring her into your arms instead.

“I won’t... you wait. Why exactly neither of us can drive?” She relishes the closeness, or maybe she’s already figured out what’s going on because the biggest smirk appears on her face.

“..cause.” Fuck Victoria. Just fuck her. What she has done to you?

“Because?”

“Because we both have been drinking. It would be reckless and dangerous to drive.” You sigh, “Satisfied?” and guess if it’s the first time in your life when you dismiss something because it could be reckless and dangerous.

“Chloe Price…” She caresses your face and hugs you gently but tightly,” I…” then leans back and looks like reconsidering what she intends to say. You stiffen. “...have good news for you. None of us needs to drive. Since Richard W. Chase thinks my affection for you could consume my whole attention and distract me too much, like in the hospital, he assigned me the personal driver. Mr. Driver.”

“You..Your… he… What?”

A second ago you were appalled she plans to say something you’ve been probably yearning for but are not ready to hear, yet. Not at all. Because you’re not very convinced you deserve it and you definitely have no idea how to react. Victoria didn’t say she loves you though. She just acknowledged not only she fully admits something profound, whether it’s romantic or sexual, is happening between you two but also heartless CEO.

“I...I guess you didn’t really need that information, did you?”  It seems like you're not the only one overwhelmed with emotions. Damn it. You’re both equal idiots balancing between being overly confident and losing their shits.

“Don’t be silly, Vic.” You tighten the embrace. “If something is important to you, I want to know. Especially, if it’s me. But the thing with your father. Are you alright? I mean is he giving you a hard time about us.” Well shit... If he’s aware she’s into you could it endanger your possible relationships?

“No, he doesn’t, actually. He doesn’t make much sense recently. But can we not talk about this right now? Can we just get in the car and…” You nod and accept her suggestion.

“Of course, baby.”

When in the back seat of the silver Audi you give your address to Mr. Driver, before Victoria can say anything, and instruct him to take you there. Mum and Dad are at some Christmas party and Trevor, well he seemed pretty occupied last time you saw him. House is empty. Driver’s supervisor decides to not dispute and lay her head on your shoulder. You have a perfect view of the bare skin under her tux, more specifically of her chest. It probably wasn’t her prime intention by your heart rate rises distinctively. And it’s not the only reaction your body manifest. You try to calm down, you need to. You are not alone, yet. Succumb to the desire is not an option. Victoria’s head shifts and her lips savour the skin on your neck. Slowly, hungrily. She did fail to resist, unlike you.

“You look stunning in that dress, you know.”

She whispers and bites your earlobe which brings you closer to the edge.

 “But I am pretty sure you are going to look even more amazing once I get you out of it.”

You shut your eyelids tightly and feel her hand on your thigh finding its way under the blue dress. Shit, shit, shit. It takes a superhuman strength, but your own hand lands on hers and stops the progress not long before she can reach the soaked panties. She retreats immediately and sits as far from you as possible.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I-I…” Your body is yearning to be touched by her again.

“No,no... don’t be. Don’t be sorry, babe.” She has nothing to be sorry about.

“We just…” Need to wait two more minutes or so. The car finally stops. You are so ready to drag Victoria out, but she shakes her head and turns to the driver.

“You’re dismissed for tonight, Mr. Driver. You can rest.”

“Thank you miss, Chase but don’t forget about…”

“I won’t. I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t forget the package.”

“Don’t worry. Have a nice evening Miss Chase. Miss Price.”

You don’t understand a shit of what they said, but the nod Victoria gives you is indeed a clear sign to leave the car. You reach for her hand, and she follows eagerly. It’s surprising how quickly you find the keys in the handbag because your whole body is on fire, your moves erratic and your girl impatient. Till you’re trying to open the front door, she’s pressed against your back kissing your neck, whispering your name. Then lock clicks. Finally. You almost fall inside. It would take you 10 seconds to be in your room, but you cannot wait any longer. You push Victoria into the wall and capture her lips. She moans into the kiss, and you feel immediate satisfaction. You feel like a drug addict finally having a hit after the worst withdrawal. But your constant craving is not fulfilled, yet. Not even close. You unbutton the tux, slow the pace and your fingers start to explore what’s underneath. It’s dark, and even when the taste of her mouth and touch of her silk skin overload your perception, you want more. You want to see that beautiful body which will be yours eventually.

“Come upstairs.”

You say softly to her ear when she growls showing a lack of content because you decided to use the lips for something else than kissing her. Once in your room, you’re forgetting why you wanted to be here because she unzips your dress and let it fall down on the floor after two skilful moves deepening the kiss. You don’t let her stay behind, and tux meet the same fate as the blue garment. When you collapse to the bed, you on the top, you’re both almost naked, only underwear left. You slept with plenty of girls but never felt what you’re feeling now. The utmost affection overcomes you entirely. You tremble and keep slowing down bringing Victoria closer and closer. She accepts new conditions and adjusts to less fierce approach, but when you pull away, it must surprise her. It surprises you even. You blink a couple of times hearing her quick and shallow breaths and then turn on the table lamp. Damn. The look on her naked body finishes you. You’re stunned unable to move, to talk to do anything but admire the perfect abs, the lean muscles toned by yoga and fencing practice.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Chloe?”

Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Not a single matter. This is perfect.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

“Just… You-you’ve kind of left me breathless, Vic.”

You gulp and gives her a subtle smile.

“Have I?”

Your timid nod is not what would you expect from your smug self, you bet it’s not what Victoria would expect from you either. She’s not disappointed though.

“In that case, I can’t wait what will happen after I’ll do this.”

In no time, it’s you on the bottom and her on the top. It’s unexpected turn of events, her taking the lead but not unwelcome. Actually, you’re grateful she gives you some time to deal with your emotions and granting you the full care in the meantime. Her lips are on the way down, leaving a wet trace on your neck, your collarbone and finally capturing one of your aroused nipples. Your skin's burning under her touch, your body’s arching in pleasure but the real heat is between your legs.

“Vic-Victoria.”

You gasp out of astonishment, and she amazes you when knows immediately what you mean and continues to the place you want her the most. Before she takes off your panties, she looks at you and what you see is pure greed. You’d swear this look only could make you come. And it’s just the beginning. You close your eyes and gasp when feeling her hand seeks for yours. She squeezes it affectionately and buries her head between your legs. The way to shattering blast of pleasure is high-speed and mindblowing. Maybe it’s because your arousal has been growing for weeks, maybe because how eagerly her mouth savour your drenched pussy but it doesn’t take long till she grants you the absolute ecstasy. You pull her back barely able to breathe to perceive anything else than waves of bliss. She’s probably a bit grumpy you came so quickly and didn’t allow her to stay down longer, but you have the whole night ahead of you, so you don’t doubt she’ll have another chance to visit. To appease her hunger, you engage her lips in the slow kiss. Feeling your own taste in your mouth give you another strange but not unpleasant reason to shiver and deepens the intimacy.

“Just give me a- Just a moment, and you’ll have my full attention.”

You whisper hearing your heart still beating like a drum. She kisses your forehead and let you deal with the aftermath of wild orgasm in her arms.

“I don’t think I will ever get enough of how good you feel against me.”

Her words fuel your desire. So does the wetness spreading from her still not bared crotch pressed against your tight.

“What about me being inside you?”

You shift and flip Victoria over, so she lays on her back. She bites her lips, and you should probably be more thorough or patient but aren’t. Your hand instinctively finds its way inside her panties and oh girl, she’s dripping. No, there is no time to undress it because this pussy of hers needs to be treated right away. You tease her clit overwhelmed by the level of wetness you’ve caused but doesn’t plan to linger for long. It’s not what’s expected from you anyway.

“Chloe-” She gulps and bites your neck, panting” Chloe, go in-inside. For fuck sake, just fuck-”

So you do. You do go inside. Your fingers are doing their best to reach the spot that makes Victoria bite you harder. Her body is moving in sync with yours, and the insane amount of moisture allows you to go deeper. The louder she becomes, the more intensely you thrust till her legs lock your hand between them, and you can feel the fierceness of her orgasm first hand. Literally.

“Chloe…”

You press your lips against Victoria’s, and she brings you closer.

“You…”

Seems like you depleted all of her stamina for the moment because she’s unable to finish the sentence.

“I… I can’t wait to taste that pussy of yours.” You tease.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s my turn to become a pussylicker, again.” She finally musters enough energy to talk and makes you chuckle. “Just give me a minute, and my tongue destroys it once more. Or twice. Or...”

The battle of which pussy will be able to handle more orgasms is about to begin.


	23. The girlfriend

**Saturday, December 21, 2013,**

**7:09 am., Price house, Wilstät, Germany**

You have been awake for some time. Even if you didn’t sleep much last night your internal clock sharpened by constant unrest is pretty strict about when you should wake up. Also, you have a lot of errands to run today, and it means you should not linger for much longer. Fortunately, Chloe is such a heavy sleeper. You kiss her hand you’ve been probably holding since you fell asleep and release it. Wish you could take a picture of her or more like you could wake up to this picture every morning. You never consider yourself as the romantic type. You always sought success, approval, popularity. Your place was meant to be in the spotlight. Every step you made was watched and judged, and you were supposed to believe there is the only way how things work. One touch, one kiss or one smile of Chloe Price is worth more than any of the stupid rubbish useless shit you considered important couple of months ago. As much as you want to toss your past in the trash, it’s not that simple. You slowly untangle the rest of your body from Chloe’s and pick the pants and tuxedo from the floor. The withdrawal is imminent but the more you wait, the harder it will be. You decide to keep the old jersey she kindly borrowed you yesterday. Or more like today. So if anyone entered the room, you wouldn’t be naked at least. You were both absolutely excited and indulged with each other presence and dismissed any effort to cover the traces of your night full of passion and lovemaking. You smile at the thought. It’s only a small comfort, but the jersey definitely stays with you. You put the rest of the clothes on, reach for the phone in the pocket and set the mirror app. You try to fix your ruffled hair a bit before quietly sneak out of the room. The hall is empty. It’s Saturday morning, and every Price had an eventful evening yesterday, so you don’t expect any obstacles on your way to the exit. You walk downstairs and reach for the main door handle.

“Top of the morning to you, young lady.”

Well, is the father who without a doubt knows you fucked his daughter or will know the moment you face him an obstacle or a doomsday, you wonder. And gulp.  And turn eventually.

“Mr. Price.” He leans to the kitchen door frame and watches you thoroughly.

_Fucking hell. What the fuck you were thinking Victoria when picking the outfit?_ _Looking like a sexual predator._

You know exactly what. How to make Chloe long for you and how to make her jealous by making everyone long for you too. Meeting her dad wasn’t planned.  _ Fuck.  _ At least you wear the jersey by now, so your chest is not bare.

“It’s good to see you, again. Too bad you are leaving so soon.”

He has a glass of juice in his hand and this spectacular look on his face that says  _ talk. I want every detail about what’s your intentions with my daughter. _ You are sure of that.

“I-I’m not leaving, yet. Just...just going to pick the Christmas gifts for Chloe from Mr. Driver.”

_ Holly shit in the bucket _ . You feel the desert in your mouth. Impressing girl’s dad is significant part of winning her heart. You should think about it yesterday when stripping her clothes and leaving hickeys on her neck. He’ll kill you when finding out. _ Damn. _

“But I’ll have to leave eventually. I mean..I mean your house, not Chloe.”

_ You cannot act more idiotic Victoria, can’t you? _

“Be-because I don’t live here, obviously.”  _ Or maybe you can. _

You shut your eyes tightly secretly hoping that if you focus enough, he will disappear along with your embarrassment. Without success. He is still there when you open them expecting you to explain yourself. The juice is replaced with a glass of water.

“Here, take it.”

You accept his offer without a second thought and empty the glass in no time. He’s a great man, you know that not only from what Chloe told you but even the greatest man doesn’t hesitate to do wicked things when protecting their loved ones.

“Mr. Price, I-”

“William.”

“What?”

“You can call me William.”

“I love her.”  _ You can’t believe you said that aloud. _ “Shit.”  _ You can’t believe you said that either. _ “Fuck.”  _ And that too. _

“I’m so sorry. I-I settle things with the swear jar, I swear but first…” You massage your temples and close your eyes again in the last resolute attempt to gain the composure.

“I can tell your family means everything to you, and you only want the best for them. For Chloe.” He nods.

“It’s not difficult to imagine that spoilt rich daughter isn’t what you consider as best for anyone.” And bids you to continue.

“It hardly can serve as an excuse for my past slips but as much as it’s worth I only had a little choice if any to be raised other way.” You sigh.

“William, I love Chloe. And even when you have no reason to trust me, please give me a chance to prove my words are genuine.”

He keeps silence and looks confused.

“I hope it’s what you asked for and I explained myself properly but if you want more go ahead. Ask.  I’m ready.”

“I didn’t ask for anything, Victoria.” He smiles, and you suddenly get it. “I only expressed my regret that you can’t spend more time with us. It was fun when you were here last time.”

“Oh, how very embarrassing.”

You hide your face in hands and curse your stupidity. Of course, he doesn’t play games with you. He’s a man of honour, not a vicious bastard like most of your family members. What he says is what he means.

“Anyway, I’m going back to bed. The Christmas party was pretty exhausting. See you around, I believe.”

“I’m looking forward to that.”

“Oh, and since you’re Chloe’s girlfriend now take this.” He reaches for the key rack and gives you the spare keys. “You’re part of the family now, so you’re always welcome in here.”

“...and I don’t want to wait till you come back with Christmas gifts, so just kindly open the door for yourself.”

He drops a bomb like that and leaves.  _ Holly fuck.  _ He likes things straight and simple, that’s for sure. _ Is this how you gain a girlfriend? Shouldn’t she acknowledge it first? Never mind.  _ You look at keys in your hand and feel beyond excited.

***

When you enter the room, Chloe is pretty much wide awake and not as peaceful as you left her. Quite the opposite, actually, nervously pacing around.

“Shit, Victoria.” She walks towards you and points her finger at you, touching the jersey under the tux. You shiver under the touch reliving memories of the previous night.

“You...you… already did that twice. I thought you stood me up again. I was ready to kick your ass from here to Sunday.”

She’s upset and relieved and absolutely stunning with messy hair wearing only a tank top and pink panties. You would grab her and kiss her if your hands weren’t full.

“I’m not leaving you, Chloe. Not really, not anymore. I just had to pick your Christmas gifts from Mr Driver.”

“You should have said something. You should wake me up.”

Every time she speaks she moves closer, and for now, the palm of her hand lays on your chest, her nose almost touching yours.

“You were too beautiful to be awoken. Besides, I thought you could use some rest after…”

You stutter and blush insanely. What she did to you, what you did to her last night erased any wall that could possibly still stand between you two, yet, you cannot say it loud. As if you would, you’ll wake, and all this will be only a distant dream. She senses your fear and gently caresses your face then take a brand new skateboard from your hand.

“This is great Vic, but you didn’t have to buy me anything.”

“I wanted to. I throw your board to the trash can, remember?”

Damn. You were so angry with her back then. And so afraid she could be injured.

“And this one, you don’t have to wear it, but I wanted to give you something I created myself. At least a bit.”

You give her the red helmet with the hand painted black bird on it. Funny, you weren’t even together, and it still made you so happy to work on the Christmas gift you never supposed to give to her.

“It’s a raven. You said your spirit animal… I mean when you were talking to Freddy about Mai-HiMe, you said your mount would be raven because crow is already taken by April Ryan.”

“You remember?”

“Of course I remember. You were pissing me to no end that night. You were all cool and sexy and charmed everyone around, even Cheshire cat.”

She takes the helmet too and puts it on the table with the board after inspecting it thoroughly. Your hand are finally free, but suddenly you have no idea what to do with them thinking about how much you want to tell her this. How much you need to.

“And you left without a hoodie.”  _  That freaking hoodie. _

“I was so close to throwing it away, but I didn’t. I didn’t, and it slowly became my bane, my salvation, my addiction, my everyt--”

She presses her lips on yours, and you wrap your hand around her hips, and the kiss is everything what you are feeling right now, what you’ve just said. And you would not mind at all to stay like this forever. Never ever again leave Chloe’s Price personal space. Ironically, you have to do it right away. You struggle when trying to part sensing her disappointment.

“Chloe…” Damn.

“I would love to stay with you all day and continue…” You can’t resist the temptation and lean into the kiss again.

“...but I have to catch the flight to Monaco. Duchess’ crazy Christmas bullshit is about to begin. Mr Driver is very skilful, but he cannot make the car fly. At least not yet.”

She closes her eyes and inhales slowly. You fucking hate yourself for making Chloe sad, but when she speaks again, it seems she wants to light up the mood and cheer you.

“Why you call him Mr. Driver, anyway? Does he not have a name?”

Trough teasing of course but even with only a little time left you gladly follow her game.

“He never told. Maybe he is not even a driver, but an assassin hired to protect me. You never know with Richard W. Chase.”

“Protect you from what?” She chuckles.

“I don’t know. Obvious treats. Terrorists trying to kidnap me and blackmail Royal family for money. A lovelorn lover who wants me to be a goner because I wasn’t able to reciprocate his feelings. Or protect me from falling in love perhaps.”

“But he might fall in that last task.” She moves her hands from your chest and wrap them around your neck pulling you closer.

“You think so?”

“Well, we can try a simple test.” She whispers.

“Go ahead then. Test me.” The kissing test works because it’s so short you couldn’t possibly have enough. Leading by desire, you are about to capture her lips, again, but she shies away.

“So? Did he fail?”

“He most likely did.” You admit you love her to William, but somehow you cannot say it now.  _ What if she won’t say it back when you say it first? What if it’s too soon to say things like that? She’s probably only teasing. _

“Most likely?”

“Chloe…” The phone in your pocket rings. You look at the screen and know you’re running out of time. Instead of picking it, you push the silence button.

“Will it always be like that? You bailing me or leaving me after the phone call?”

You know, she’s right, and you have been doing it on a regular base, but you made a promise to her father.

“No, it won’t.” She takes a step back as a clear sign your words didn’t convince her.

“Chloe, it won’t.” You pull her back.

“I’ll handle it, I promise.” She deserves more than just words, unfortunately, for the moment you can’t give her anything else.

“I lov--”  _ Damn. You can’t.  _ “I told you I’d love to stay. It’s not possible right now, but I’ll find a way how to be with you, till I’m in Monaco.”

You kiss her forehead ready to leave and hope she’ll still feel the same way about you when you’re back from Royal insanity.

“Wait, I have something for you too.”

She moves to the drawers, searching them but also glancing your way too often, to reassure yourself you linger till she can give you what she’s looking for.

“Where the fuck…oh...here.”

She picks a little black box but only feels victorious for the shortest moment. Excitement is quickly replaced with nervousness.

“I bought it in Vienna.”

She’s looking down opening and closing the box but only a bit so it’s impossible to see what’s inside but you recognise the  _ Swarovski  _ sign. You feel weak on your knees.  _ Vienna.  _ It must be..

“At Airport, when we’re coming back from the game vs. Slovakia.”

_ Six weeks ago.  _ She bought you something six weeks ago, a day after you put her picture on  _ your wall.  _ She stops the opening-closing madness and looks at you. The girl who said she rather vomit razorblades than work with you is standing right in front of you with the piece of expensive jewellery.

“I was thinking about Graff or Van Cleef & Arpels, but it’s out of my league, so…”

“You shouldn’t…” Only the fact she knows Graff, and Van Cleef & Arpels is too much. You can’t imagine what will happen after she reveals what’s inside.

“Actually, the girls from the team helped a bit and encourage me to act on my instincts.” She starts rambling.

“I-I didn’t know much about these things if necklace or armband or whatever is appropriate to give a girl or whole van Appfel infatuation… I mean van Cleef & Arpel.” _ How could you ever hate this adorable girl, Victoria? How could you? _

“And I know it was crazy to buy something like this when we weren’t even...well. I was so excited about my first game and about your wall, and it supposed to be a friendly gift. From the friend. And..and…excitement was gone, and I thought I will never give it to you, anyway, but I keep it because it was meant to be for you and I didn’t know what to do with it.”

She finally opens the small container, and you cannot help yourself but burst into laughter. The gift is so Chloe like, satisfying, teasing, overwhelming.

“Oh, fuck. You don’t like it. It’s too cheesy, isn’t it? I should know I cannot possibly pick the right jewellery for Victoria Chase. I’m such an…”

“Perfect. You are perfect, and the earrings are perfect. Absolutely fitting for the royal queen bitch.”

“Well if so, that’s exactly what I had in mind.” She smirks.

If anyone else dared to give you crown-shaped earrings, you’d end them, but when you imagine the whole process how Chloe Price came with an idea and executed it, it’s the best thing ever. Best gift ever. Because she thought about what you appreciate, about what makes you happy and of course, she dared to tease you. The moment she bought that earrings her inner conflict come to the most reasonable compromise. She stayed true to her smug attitude but showed the real affection when purchasing you the beautiful piece of jewellery.

You take the small box and kiss her hand.

“Now you have to obey my will and become my first lady. Royal queen bitch demands it. Or else I tell everyone Chloe Price is one big softie.”

It’s you who smirks for this time, but the phone rings again and kind of kills the mood. Your departure cannot be delayed anymore.

“I’ll be your anything, Vic, just come back soon.” She utters with devoted voice.

You leave her but not without a kiss and another promise to be back. And you can’t wait to wear the earrings for Royal ceremonies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know the feeling when you are reading some story that is really long, and then in chapter twenty-something there is a reference to something that happened like zillion chapters before and you'd like to refresh your memories but have no clue which chapter it was, and you don't want to reread the whole story because of that?
> 
>  
> 
> It happened to me before and it kind of bothered me so I thought maybe this would be a bit helpful.
> 
>  
> 
>   * Chloe spoke about Mai-HiMe and April Ryan and forgot her hoodie in Chase manor in chapter 5 The girl who has been mistaken. (the hoodie also played an important role in chapter 15 The girl who wants it so much)
>   * Victoria had dinner with Prices in chapter 7 The girl in the mirror.
>   * The game with Slovakia where Chloe played for the senior NT for the first time happened in chapter 11 The girl who impressed.
>   * Chloe and Victoria "slept together" twice before they actually slept together. In chapter 9 The girl who deserves more and in chapter 13 The girl in the white jersey. Both times Victoria left before Chloe woke up.
> 

> 
>   
>    
> 


	24. The Royal daughter part 1

**Tuesday, December 24, 2013,**

**09:33 am., Price house, Wilstät, Germany**

You put on the jacket, wool scarf and thin knit hat but there is one last piece till you’ll be ready for _an adventure._ Trevor is making funny faces because he knows what’s missing. The helmet. “Chloeeeee… this is too much, even for you.”

He’s seeking for approval but dad has never been a judge in your disputes, and from the look on his face, he doesn’t plan the change of heart. You fasten the strap on the red helmet with black hand-painted raven and turn to your brother with nothing but pure grin.

“I don’t suppose we are going to meet anyone but if so you can tell them your sister’s autistic with the very specific unvarying pattern.”

“Come on guys, you can have _a nice conversation_ in the _car,_ now let’s show some hustle.”

Dad hands you your new bag knowing you won’t leave without it and basically pushes you outside. You walk swiftly through the snowy grass, check yourself in the car window reflection and to Trevor’s surprise conquer the backseat. You always fight for the passenger one but this time you have other plans. And this plan starts with the bag you’re squeezing. Since Victoria left, two significant things occurred, in an honest manner, you did not expect. She kept her promise, and you wear the helmet. Well, it’s not when riding the board because you didn’t have a chance to use it yet, but it counts, anyway.  It started innocently. You felt down when she was gone, needed to distract yourself a bit, so you tried it. Just for fun. And… kind of did not take it off for three days except for sleeping or showering. When Victoria can obsess about your hoodie ( _which now you know she does),_ you can obsess about the helmet. Three hours after she walked away _(not that you were counting)_ Mr. Driver knocked on Price house door.

_“Sorry miss Price, I have to take a picture of you”_ He chuckled and did as he said.

_“Miss Chase will love to see this.”_ He probably referred to the helmet. _“Here, something for you.”_ He gave you the black tablet bag, wished you a Merry Christmas and was about to leave.

_“Are you an assassin hired to protect, Victoria?”_ You shouted with only mildly serious voice.

_“Just a driver.”_

_“Keep an eye on her Mr. Driver, when I'm not around, will you?”_

_“She always knew how to take care of herself,”_ he added in earnest rather than joking manner, _“but I’ll do what I can._

Somehow you didn’t buy the cover story. Maybe because you wanted to believe someone watches over your beloved one when you can’t. Then you checked the bag an except for Victoria’s handwritten note there were a tablet, action camera and Bluetooth headset.

_Before you throw everything away read this. I’m not trying to buy with expensive gifts, unlike you tried with me (successfully). So consider these devices as borrowed and use them freely to contact me anytime, anywhere or anything else actually._

_I’ve already sent a video message so you can check it right away._

_Miss you._

_Vic_

_PS: As you undoubtedly noticed I didn’t send any corporate bulshit – your words (iPad), but regular middle-class tablet so using it should only irritate you a bit._

That’s what she wrote, and you could hardly wait to see the message she sent. Back in your room, you nestled into the bed that still smelt like her and turned on the tablet. She wore a burgundy cashmere sweater with a gently fitted body shape, white blouse and earrings you gave her. Her hair showed no signs of wild night, flawless make-up only underlined the successful effort for impeccability. She recorded the message at the airport, it was clear from the surroundings, and despite her outer look, she didn’t give a shit about the royal bitch responsibilities. At least when talking to you.

_Hi, Chloe_

_Since I’m not scientific type as you are, I couldn't implement a scientific plan. Like clone myself, send the double to Monaco and come back to you. But I made a promise, so I had to use the traits and resources that are available. Being hideous and sociopathic doesn’t fit much for this task, so I used my wit and Richard W. Chase money._

_You've probably already found out what the package contains. If not there is also an action camera and Bluetooth headset. I don’t want to bore you with details of royal family Christmas, but it’s pretty demanding. I will try… no…no trying Victoria. Trying is not enough. I will call you at least every evening before sleep. I also understand you can be busy with your stuff, so if we aren't able to talk, I’ll leave you a video message, and you can do the same if you want. Something just like this. Actually, I gladly record more of them through the day, without royal crap around of course. Don’t worry. And since I am an early bird and you’re entirely opposite, I can send good morning vid every day too. You can watch it when you wake up. I like the idea. Sounds like a plan._

_I know it's not literally being with you but hey, only ten days and I’ll be back. And I’ll make you come harder than yesterday. Think about that when some fangirls will be snooping around._

_Jeez. I hope I don’t sound too fangirly. I do, don’t I? Oh, fucking hell. Chloe fucking Price, what the fuck you did to me?_

_Anyway, I hope you’ll have a nice Christmas. Bye, baby._

You probably watched that message like fifty times, approx and others too. You doubted Victoria first. You were almost sure she won’t be able nor willing to break royal chains, but video calling/messaging was such a splendid idea. She ashamed you when proved you wrong. Nevertheless, being wrong never felt so good.

Back in the present, the car stops before you reach the desired destination. It’s unmistakable because you are still in an urban area not in the woods. Your mission is to obtain a Christmas tree. It’s been Price tradition since you remember. Only you, dad and Trevor walk through the snow, fight with the raw wilderness and cut the best tree. Now you know it’s actually illegal so dad’s friend, certified forester always posed the tree, that was already cut and supposed to go to sale. When you were a kid, you loved this little game. The crusade all the way across the forest. Then your excitement had started to fade away, and when you moved from Berlin to Willstät, you just bailed on your father and brother. Two years ago because you had a terrible hangover and last year because you didn’t feel like it. But when you mentioned tree hunting to Victoria yesterday, she was beyond excited about the whole thing. And it seems another exception was made and royal daughter won’t be the only one who joins your family tradition.

“Hi Trev, hi guys. Nice helmet, Chloe.”

Dana chirps and sits next to you. You respond to the compliment with a soft smile. Trevor is a bit grumpy about the picking seat decision because he could sit next to her right now, but the pleasure from her unexpected presence is stronger. Dad explains that when one girlfriend was allowed to join, the other should be too. _Girlfriend._ He calls Victoria your girlfriend like it was the most self-evident fact. You probably have this huge idiotic grin plastered on your face but so what. You install the tablet to the makeshift holder stuck to the jacket sleeve you proudly created by yourself. You hope there will be no difficulties with a signal. You’re heading to the forest, but the whole surroundings are heavily urbanised.

It takes fifteen more minutes, and the car stops again. It looks like a winter tale outside. You’re the last one who abandons dad’s ŠKODA KAROQ. Seeing Trevor and Dana squeezing tightly, brushing their noses makes you feel a bit jealous but only till Victoria picks up the video call. You don’t understand much how such a simple thing as seeing someone on the small screen could make you so happy. You don’t need to know if the feeling lingers.  

“Hi, Vic.”

_“Hi, helmet.”_

“Fuck you.”

_“You wish.”_

“I do, but not everyone needs to know that. Especially not Trevor. And dad.”

You whisper and take a step back. For the moment you just stare at each other.

“You look magnificent.”

She always does, yet she blushes like it was the first time someone told her so.

“Are you ready for an adventure?”

She only nods humbly somehow still unable to voice how she feels after your unexpected words.    

* * *

 

You walk behind, bringing some privacy for you and Victoria. Too bad your tablet holding gadget didn’t work, so you stick with the Bluetooth headset and action camera in your hand. You’d love to see her, but at least she sees. You and the scenery. You bet it’s much better than some creepy aristocratic mansion in Monaco. You must ramble like a fool, but she doesn’t mind. She even encourages you. So you share the stories about how you met a wild boar once and had to run for your life ending without a Christmas tree or about how you were given your first skateboard when you were five, demolished the tree five minutes after when trying to do some tricks. She’s a great listener and navigator because the storytelling has engaged you so much, you kind of miss the world around you. But she always informs you about lurking branch or sneaky bush and also chuckles when you’re too clumsy to avoid them. Even if it’s you who speaks mainly, she makes yourself present often enough to make you feel she’s right next to you. And you’d like to hear more from her, but somehow you know there must be a reason why she’s not eager to share royal Christmas stories.

Everytime you call, she’s a bit numb in the beginning. It always gets better after the conversation flows, but you should be bolder. You should be helping her with anything that’s bothering her. You’re not though. Your first night together at Chase manor she said _This world is nothing you’ve ever experienced._ And she was right. There are so many things you don’t understand about her life. But she also said _You have something she can only dream of. A choice._ And you choose to be with her, whatever it takes.

_“The branch, Chloe, the braaanch.”_ It hits you to the nose and she giggles.

_“Are you ok? What were you thinking? You stuck in the middle of the sentence and kept silent.”_

“I’m fine. I just..I wish you could be here. Maybe next year.”

_“Yeah. Maybe. It'd be great.”_

Dad asks you to turn the action camera to him because you finally discovered Christmas miracle. He explains the whole process of ceremonial cutting (the tree that is already cut) and offers the axe to Dana giving her privilege to the final blow.  It’s funny, and Victoria laughs, and you decide you enjoy this moment instead of contemplating about what could go wrong.

“You’re next, Miss Chase, so practice thoroughly, only twelve months left.” Dad winks to the action camera, and she promises to not disappoint him, only you can hear that though. Then you apologise to the party and have a private moment because she has to go and cannot keep you company on the way back.

_“Thank you, Chloe, for taking me with you. It was lovely. Enjoy the rest of the day with your family, and I will talk to you tomorrow. Bye, baby.”_

She ends the call too quickly and left you with no chance to react or ask why you cannot talk more today. You hoped for at least quick chat in the evening. As much as you want to call back immediately what if she’s just about to be crowned as princess of Monaco or something. If she doesn’t feel like telling you, you have to respect that.

* * *

 

The dinner is going to start in a couple of minutes, and to your own surprise, it’s not as annoying as expected. Seeing everyone all happy and excited about Christmass carol or potato salad you helped to prepare is not a torment like a year before or total blackout like two years ago.

You sit on the couch staring at the tablet on the coffee table. If you only had the power to make it ring, you wish. But it seems, your best superpower, for now, is to wear the helmet without interruption for hours. Still, it would actually be a pretty nice family holiday evening considering your general distaste with stupid holidays tradition and lack of social skills, if...

If you hadn’t a girlfriend somewhere in Principality of Monaco, you are craving for. No to mention you can’t stop thinking about how some Grand Duke of _Västerbotten_ or another preposterous reign is trying to court Victoria and wanting to make her his Serene Highness. _Fucking shit._ She still had the earrings you gave her when you talked in the morning. But Grand Duke of whatever can definitely buy her Arpel and van Cleef unlike you. Or buy a whole diamond pit. You unbuckle the helmet and put it away. _What the hell you were thinking? You are freaking nobody. Why should royal daughter choose to be with you when she could be with absolutely anybody?_ You are about to leave when buzzing sound repels all crazy thoughts. You reach for the tablet with joy but realise it is not the source of the incoming call. The disappointment can’t overflow you because suddenly you remember other devices can buzz too. You reach for the phone in your pocket and see an unknown number with code outside Germany. It must be…

“Victoria?”

“Just Freddy. Hi, Chloe.”

You sneak out of the crowded living room and head upstairs. It’s not an easy task to comprehend what is he talking about but when you figure out Victoria is not falling for any Grand Duke you don’t feel like wanker anymore. What’s Freddy trying to tell you actually wakes up your inner badass.

“So let me sum it up.” You kind of have to. It’s too complicated.

“You are in Liechtenstein with Richard W. Chase, and Victoria is in Monaco with the Duchess.”

“That’s correct.” Well, that was the easy part, you think. Now the complex one begins.

“Because your father asked for a divorce.” _What the actual fuck?_

“Yes.”

“Duchess went full mental and promised him hell. She determined the agreement about divorce with him having your custody. He was reluctant but accept, eventually. She felt victorious, and you were horrified, but now it seems, he tricked her, because he wanted your custody all the way. Victoria thinks it all started in the hospital and he’s either becoming a better person, or he was replaced by the nice clone.”

“She prefers the clone theory.”

“Of course she does. So the Duchess thinks she punished Richard W. Chase, and you but she still doesn’t have enough. That’s why she took Victoria with her to Monaco. To indulge herself in tormenting her. And it culminates right now, on Christmas eve.”

“Yes, that’s exactly how it is.”

“Fuck, Freddy. Why she went there? Why she didn’t say anything? Does she not trust me enough to tell me? Fuck… spit it out, where exactly Victoria is? I’m going to pick her even if it means I’ll drive all night.”

“No, Chloe. You can’t do that. That’s not why I call.”

“You either tell me, or I’ll figure out by myself.”

“Please just listen, you don’t understand. I spoke with her couple of minutes ago, and she did her best to pretend everything’s fine. And I bet she tried to convince you too she’s doing ok last time you called.”

“So what? I’m still going for her.”

“Would you listen for one minute?”

“One minute, nothing more.”

“Victoria has been protecting me from the Duchess and from the royal madness my whole life. She always proudly stood in the first line shielding me from all the crap and never showed a sign of weakness. Because weakness is an unforgivable crime in our reality. She believes she’s obliged to face the Duchess, to meet some insane expectations and I think she’s not handling it well because she not as vicious nor twisted as our mother, our family. I know it has been tearing her apart.  If you go to Monaco _to save her,_ she’ll feel like she failed. She’ll feel weak.”

“I don’t care. I won’t let her stay in the lair of evil.”

“Chloe, think about it. You two are so alike. Remarkable, strong-willed and stubborn as hell.  Would you like her to see you fail and down? On your knees. Would you?”

Of course not. You’re a lone wolf, you need to be alone to lick your wounds.

“Shit. So what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Call her, talk to her and make her feel like she’s worthy not a failure. Please. You’re the only one who can. And don’t mention the Duchess. If you do, Victoria will know I betrayed her. Then once she opens up you can arrange a rescue mission. Not sooner.”

“To the hell with this, Freddy. I genuinely really hate your family.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Besides, Richard W. Chase is trying surprisingly hard, and I don’t feel like having a panic attack in his presence anymore. But Vicky needs you, even when she won’t admit it because she can’t. So please call her.”

“I will. I’m going to.”

“I have to go now. Thank you.”

“I thank you, Freddy. It probably wasn’t easy to tell me all this. And to accept the girl you fall for chose your sister instead.”

“Vicky deserves the best, and you are the best Chloe Price. Don’t forget about that. Bye.”

“Bye, kiddo.”

You have a plan immediately and run downstairs. You didn’t doubt dad will approve, but when he nods, you feel relieved. You hug him tightly and tell you’ll be back in no time. Sensible and subtle. That’s what the approach must be. Unfortunately, those qualities are not your strengths. Nevertheless, the care for Victoria is strong within you. Now when Freddy confirmed she is not indulging any Grand Duke courtship, you tend to believe her affection to you is as solid as yours. If you could only use it to your advantage, to make her think you need her, not helping her, which is not far from the truth, she wouldn’t feel weak. You grab the tablet and go back to your room. The device will serve as a second step. First one is the good old text message. You unleashed the softest, most emotional part of your affection and write.

_I got issues, and one of them is how bad I need you_

You think about the best way how to distract yourself because expecting an immediate answer is a foolishness, but that’s precisely what happens. It takes only a moment until tablet rings.

_“Hey, baby. Is everything, alright?”_

“Yes. No. I mean, it’s not, but it could be. I have this issue, and if I don't solve it very quickly, I’ll go crazy.”

_“Well, Just tell me then, I’m here for you.”_

“I can't stop thinking about how much I want you to join us for dinner, and it drives me insane, and I know you probably busy with all those royal sh… stuff but if you could stay with us for twenty minutes, perhaps.”

_“Like now?”_

“Uh-huh.”

“Vic, you know me, I’m too proud to admit shits like this, but I’m also too lost in you. Usually, I work on my issues by myself, but I feel like I’m going to explode. So fuck it. I miss you. If you could manage to spend some time with me, with us, it’ll make me super happy and less explosive.”

_“Ok, fine. This Schloss is enormous. There will be no trouble to nest in the room where the Duchess won’t find me. I have enough of her for the_ lifetime _already.”_

“So you’ll join us?” Hell, yes. It went smoother than you expected. And all you had to do was showing a little weakness.

_“I will. I do. If it makes you happy.”_

“It damn will.” You kiss the tablet feeling a bit idiotic and lot more overjoyed and banish the bitterness from achieving success through scheming.

You take _her_ with you and put the tablet on the kitchen table, on the spot now vacant, but you hope being occupied again soon. Victoria stays so much longer than only twenty minutes.  She lingers the whole evening, unwraps presents with you and your family, watches stupid Christmas movies that are suddenly not so stupid with her around and now talks with you lying on your bed long after midnight. Not about the Duchess, though, not about her issues. About silly things like if Schrödinger’s cat is the cousin of the cat from Alice adventures in wonderland because they both are and aren’t at the same time. She’s not much into quantum mechanics, and you’re not much into literature, and still, you can find a way how to involve such distinct topics into the witty conversation. She looks relaxed and happy, so you don’t mind you were only partly successful. You made her stay far away from the Duchess for hours, you can make her open up to you tomorrow. You already managed that before twice, after the dinner at Chase manor and before you kissed for the first time in your room. Ok, you didn’t accomplish anything, she bared herself because she wanted to back then. But you’ll figure this out because you want her right next to you not only small screen version but the real one and seven more days seem like an eternity.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some unnecessarily notes.  
>   
> Yeah, the Christmas chapter in the middle of summer. lol  
>   
> It was December the first, eight months ago when me and my friend were stuck in the traffic on our way to the trip to Vienna, eager to visit Christmas market, drink some extensively sweet gross mead and have a good time.  
> Super slow drive through the highway wasn’t planned nor considered a good time, so she was like come on you’re the storyteller, tell me some story, or we die of boredom.  
> So I told her the story about the football player and the royal daughter and she was like: There always has to be a football player in your story, hasn’t it?  
> Damn straight it must!  
> Write it, she said. You definitely should. So I have done. And so far it’s the longest story I’ve ever written. It’s already finished, well the draft but it’s still a lot to do, till this journey will be over.  
> So maybe this is the place where I should thank you M., without your encouragement I’d never do this and I’ve never learnt a lot of the new things about myself. Like why I want a happy ending for Chloe so badly or how I could stop hating the Christmas.


	25. The Royal daughter part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit, I suppose.

**Monday, December 30, 2013,**

**09:58 am., Price house, Wilstätt, Germany**

You failed. Victoria is still in Monaco. You couldn’t make her open up to you nor open the _rescue mission_ topic. Your real-time conversations are longer though, and she’s probably more willing to disobey the Duchess but still not a single word about her inner struggle or royal issues. At least it’s only two more days left. She will be back on Wednesday, and it can’t come soon enough.

It was meant to be a scheme, a little bit of conspiracy but you are not the person who fits into schemes. The only game you can play is on the football field, and that’s probably the reason why Victoria’s current location is hundreds of kilometres away not right next to you.

Because you fucking don’t know how to plot. So you didn’t figure out how to convince her to drop the obnoxious rules of the royal world and safely cry on your shoulder if needed without revealing you know she's in trouble because you didn’t even fully tried. It would no doubt end with your angry outburst and bloody promise to kill the Duchess.

On the one hand, you get it, Victoria doesn’t want to look weak in your eyes, on the other why it should matter. You would not think any less of her. You are together now, as a couple, for better or worse. It’s tearing you apart, but Freddy was right, you two are alike. You remember how she pissed you when came to Cologne and tried to tell you what to do. She came to protect you. Part of you knew you shouldn’t play, but you also know nothing could stop you from stepping on the field that day. If you just be outspoken and straightforward as always and tell her what she is supposed to do, it could end in catastrophe as it did in Cologne. Damn it!

When you think about it, this could be an excellent opportunity to spend a lot of quality time together. Mum and dad left in the morning and are going to stay in the Mountains for romantic New years eve trip. So you and Victoria could spend the whole time in your bed, definitely not sleeping. Trevor would be no trouble because he’s either going to be high or doing the same with Dana. And it frustrates you to no end because instead of this amazing phantasy she is spending time with her psychopathic mother who scolds her at best and humiliates her at worst. And for what? To prove she is a flawless royal daughter and can handle it. To who? She is the extraordinary young woman and doesn’t need to prove anything to anybody. Definitely not to you, absolutely not to the human disaster called the Duchess. You are mad at her and even madder at yourself because you’re not able to tell her this. You roll off the bed and turn the tablet on. It’s two to ten. She’ll call in no time. You look in the mirror and change to the white tank top. It’s cold, but Victoria likes it on you. The device on your table buzzes and you are excited to accept the call but the feeling of being upset and annoyed boils inside you.

 _“Hi, hun.”_ She smiles and tries to sound light-hearted, but the eyes betray her. She either cried or was on the verge of tears not long ago.

“Vic...Victoria. Hi.” You don’t intend to but still, sound accusing. Well, fuck, you’re so done with this shit. Yet, against your nature after the tremendous effort, you don’t say anything more and rather bite your lip.

She seems distracted by your lack of involvement and after a moment of silence to your surprise but more to her own she cracks. She starts rambling, and for the first time, she reveals something about what’s going on around her. She speaks about the upcoming betrothal ceremony of Prince of Monaco and Duchess younger sister.  For fuck sake. Some fucking betrothal ceremony on New year's eve is what she's part of. Duchess disdains almost everything about it. Improper frivolous nature of Monaco royalty and careless preparations, to begin with, Richard W. Chase ultimate betrayal and absence to end with. Victoria doesn’t explicitly say, but it’s kind of clear she’s the one who takes the rage her vicious mother needs to vent. It’s time to act. She finally admits something's wrong. You frown, your brain working hard on the plan how to approach this without being, well too much you.  Unfortunately, it gives her time to realise what she has done.

 _“I--I didn’t mean to bother you with this. It’s stupid, and I can handle it._ ” Damn, you won’t allow her to back off. To the hell with a subtle approach.

“You should leave Monaco and come here.”

You don’t waste time on explaining yourself anymore just head straight to the point. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion though but like an order.

_“What? I can’t do that.”_

“Of course you can. Damn it, Vic. Being a royal daughter does not entitle you to accept all those craps. I fucking don’t mind if it’s too much, you can admit it. You don’t have to pretend everything’s ok. Actually, I hate pretending. So I will not feign how I feel, anymore. Not for you, not for anybody.”

_“So you feign how you feel around me?”_

“Yes!” Well, what a crazy shit to say to the girl who doesn’t want to feel weak. “I mean, no of course not.”

_“That’s just fucking awesome, Chloe isn’t it?”_

“Just let me finish, will you?”

_“About how you have to pretend around me?”_

“First of all, it’s you who pretends everything’s fine when you going through hell and for some crazy fucking reason you don’t consider me reliable enough for sharing.”

 _“I do not...for fuck sake, Chloe. Could I kindly remind you,”_ she says, and it sounds anything but kind, _“we are together for less than a week, so pardon me If I am not eager to feed you with all that preposterous heavy burdens and chase you away.”_

“I thought we already settled this. Victoria, I had a dinner in Chase mansion and lived to tell about it, not to mention you totally bail on me after and I still couldn’t stop thinking about you. I had four weeks to think about this about us, and I decided to be with you. So don’t hide any royal shits from me. I feel useless when you do.”

 _“Alright, Alright. I get it. I’m sorry for doing so. And being here is totally horrendous. I hate it and can’t wait to leave. But If you want to hear about how fucking fail I am, the disgrace to my mother and my family be my guest.”_ She softens.

“A) Apology accepted.  B) You are not a fail. And I’m sorry too for bursting like that.” You smile with relief and caress the tablet.

“So just give me the address, and I can drive there right away and pick you up.”

_“What? No, you can’t. See, this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, Chloe. First thing that comes to your mind is to do something incredibly idiotic and reckless.”_

“Why? You just admitted it’s hell. I can borrow Steph’s car and be there in no time. Well, a couple of hours but I don’t mind.”

_“You can’t come here. If Duchess found out, she’d call the police or exorcist. I don’t want you to deal with this.”_

“I DO NOT MIND, Vic. What part of I do not mind you didn’t understand?”

_“I said no, Chloe and it’s my last word. I handle this by myself. Please accept that.”_

“Fine. I’ll stay here and _pretend_ I’m FINE with you suffering if that’s what you want.”

_“Chloe…”_

“Or maybe you're ashamed of me. That’s why you don’t want me there.”

_“I am not fucking ashamed of you. Fucking hell!”_

“I have to go now. Mum needs my help...with lunch.” As if she doesn’t know your parents are out.

_“Fine. Be obstinate as always.”_

“Who the fuck even use the word obstinate, Victoria, who?”

_“I do!”_

“Fine.”

_“Didn’t you just said you have to leave?”_

“I do. I’m on my way.”

_“Fine.”_

“Fine!”

You turn off the freaking tablet and kick the wardrobe with ferocious intensity because everything is so FINE. The sleepy head of your brother appears at the door, and he’s not impressed. You definitely woke him up.

“Chloe if you are sexually frustrated, there is such thing as Skype sex, you know. You don’t have to destroy the room.” He yawns and grins.

“Get out, wanker.” You throw a pillow towards him, and it hits the target just right.

“Dana’s doing some BFF stuff and boys organising snooker tournament, so I’m heading to the pub afternoon. Feel free to join, since your Queen bitch is still in Munich.”

“Monaco.” You growl.

“What?”

“She’s in fucking Monaco, not Munich.”

“Whatever, you still can join.”

If he thinks you’re interested in stupid snooker tournament, he’s fucking wrong. You just want to smash as many things as possible. Two hours later, after lots of plastic bottles squeezed and aluminium cans crushed, you are more willing to accept his offer. When leaving the house with Trevor, you forget your phone. _Accidentally,_ of course. A couple of beers make snooker mildly entertaining, the girls trying to get into your pants are still highly annoying, though. Every time some of those shows up you want to call Victoria and tell her how much you miss her but then you remember you _forgot_ the phone at home and you’re still mad at her. It’s only eight in the evening when you’re back in your room. You won’t admit you were driven by the urge to seek the phone. Not in the world. But seeing little green light blinking brings you joy. You peek quickly, and there are a couple of messages from your loved one. You should check them, you should reply, but alcohol in your systems and your hurt pride suggest otherwise. Victoria can wait. She can handle it by herself. She doesn’t need your help nor your interference. The restless sleep overcomes you the moment you collapse to the bed.

****

You wake up and feel the desert in your mouth. And revolting post alcoholic aftertaste. Checking the sky behind your window, you guess it’s long after midnight. Everything’s dark around. You remember the green blinking light and its absence must mean your phone died. Well shit happens, says the part of you still bitter about the rejection, so you delay the recharging till morning. You somehow make it to the bathroom and brush your teeth, which is excessively magnificent feeling. The only thing better than that is to pee after seven beers, you realise when doing so. You’d gladly went back to sleep, but the tingling hangover in your head prevents it from happening. Damn. You need a distraction if you want to keep the phone dead. A little bit of Gears will do, so you sit on the floor and turn the xbox on. Not long after your door opens. Have you managed to wake up your brother, you wonder?

“If you got the munchies, Trev this is not the kitchen. If you want to play bugger off. I’m solo now. You stood me up the other day for sexy texting, so I stand you up now for solo mode.” Your eyes won’t leave the screen. Your brother is either high or moony. He’ll be gone soon or fall into your bed. You still don’t feel like sleeping, so it’s cool with you.

“CHLOE FUCKING PRICE.”

Well, Fuck. It’s definitely not Trevor. You take a deep breath and step up.

“What the fuck you were thinking! I...I thought you’re dead, abducted by aliens, lost in an alternate reality. You-you did not respond to my messages for the whole day!”

It’s Victoria. Super pissed Victoria.

“Your parents are not picking the phone, your brother incoherently mumbling something about locusts attack and another Carmine guy dead. I fucking drove six hours to get here expecting doomsday. Or emergency day. That’s what he said.”

Super hot Victoria.

“Six fucking hours in some pathetic middle-class rental car, Renault or whatever, breaking the speed limits for zillion times.”

You are thinking about saying something but looking at her, emanating that exceptional stunning grace of hers, you don’t bother. You just step in and capture her lips in the most passionate kiss. Her need for angry speeches evaporates quickly. Or so you think when she moans sweetly letting you unbutton her satin blouse. When done you make a mistake and allured by her bared neck you shift your attention there. You can taste her exhaustion, anger, fear, determination...her arousal. You can taste real Victoria Chase again, not expensive body lotion or perfume and you love it. Too invested in savouring her skin, you let her mouth without proper care, so she’s enabled to speak again.

“Don’t you dare to think…” She pants. If you wanted to be smug, you’d say obstinate as always. She can’t enjoy simple pleasure without dull contemplating.

“...you will get away with this, Chloe...you won’t…”

You reluctantly move your lips to hers and bring a little silence and a lot of greed. You unhook her bra and are about to continue with stripping the lower body when she takes off your shirt and makes you part.

“Ok, Alright...we’ll talk about how I want to slap you later…” That damn mouth of hers. It is without attention for three seconds and immediately becomes involved in speaking. She struggles to catch a breath. You hook a thumb on the waistband of her pants and pull. Holly fuck, how much you yearned for this. Your bared chests are pressed together, and you hoped the feeling of your hardened nipples on hers will finally make her stop talking. You don’t waste your eager lips for rambling unlike Victoria and pressed them on hers. Her body is on fire you sense it. It’s burning. You don’t think about fever at all when scorching heat absorbs you completely. You want all of her but she gently pushes you away, and even when she doesn’t sound pissed anymore it gets a bit frustrating.

“Chloe, I spend six hours in the car going from sweating like a whore in the church to Antarctica chills. I’m surprised I even let you touch me in this state of utter mess. I need a shower before…”

“You need my fingers inside your pussy.” You whisper to her ears but step aside eventually.

“But if you prefer the shower first, baby, so be it.” You take her hand, “Come!” and lead her through the house to the bathroom. It doesn’t come to your mind that you should turn the lights on because you’re quite familiar with the place. And it seems Victoria’s quite familiar with you, her body stuck with yours she follows, trusting your senses enough without the need to engage hers.

“Adjust the water to cold-colder.”

She says once in the bathroom and nudges you towards to the shower. You are not eager to separate but do as she commands, giving her time to get rid of the rest of her clothes. Your prediction to not stay apart for long is proved right feeling her now fully naked body pressing against yours.

“Colder.”

If a regular shower, it would be too cold for your liking but since you finally have what you’ve been craving for, she’s the only thing you can focus on. You turn and put your arm around her waist. She gives you a low moan of despair and place a hand on your chest before you can capture her lips.

“Did you miss me?”

If she would not indulge yourself so much in talking you’d already showed her that you not only missed her, you pined for her every second she wasn’t around.

“Vic, we can talk later, now let us…”

“Answer. Please.”

You feel chilly drops of the water on your back, her burning body in your embrace and sheer vulnerability in her voice. She stares at you her hand still laying on your chest where your heart beats, not only for you anymore, you realise.

“Yes.”

It’s plain and simple. You’ve never been a fan of decorate speeches. But the word you’ve just said is only the least part of your answer, and hopefully, Victoria knows that. She closes her eyes maybe trying to steady her quick and shallow breathing, and if not for the darkness and water you’d see the tears coming down her face. You don’t though. Instead, you encounter the other side of hers. The one that bears no frailty.

“Let me feel how much.”

She says, eventually and brings you into the hungry kiss. As an immediate response, your thigh moves between Victoria’s legs, and she gladly allows it to grind against her pussy. You deepen the kiss enjoying her subdued moans in your mouth. She is so fucking beautiful, you think when your hands slowly trail down her back till they reach her bum. You squeeze it and pull her crotch harder against you.

“Your body is glorious. I adore it.”

You whisper and focus your attention on her neck. Your lips attention to be precise.

“And..and my body...loves...loves to be touched by you.”

Her moaning intensifies bringing you to the edge.

“Like this?”

On of your hands swiftly approach her pussy and seeks for her clit.

“Yeah.”

You start rubbing it gently at first feeling the wetness spreading quickly while sucking her nipples.

“Yeah...just...just, like that.” You add more ferocity when notice the tension is building, bringing in another finger.

“Chloe...Chloe…”

Damn, how much you enjoy her fierce screams. You push her to the wall and reward her with a hard kiss. She knows what is about to come adjusts her overheated body and locks her arms around your back. Your fingers enter her pussy, and she bites your lips sending an incredible wave of pleasure down to your spine.

“Fuck me,” she begs, and you are happy to oblige, “fuck, me Chloe.”

“Har-der. Harder.”

You are moving in and out hitting the right spot inside feeling her nails digging deeper into your skin until she screams in pleasure and her burning body faints. If you wouldn’t hold her, she’d go down. To avoid the fall, you let both of you slide to the ground leaning her to the wall and straddling her. She seems utterly exhausted when lays her head on your shoulder. You give her the time to recover and spill light kisses anywhere in the reach.

“I’m sorry.” She says after the moment.

“For what?” You stroke her wet hair softly.

“I think I’m done. I can't make you come. You can either let me here or if you want me somewhere else, you have to carry me there.”

Damn, you killed her. You must smile at the thought of carrying her around. You turn off the water step up cautiously and dry yourself. Then wrap Victoria into another towel and lift her up with utmost care.

“Admit it. This was your goal the whole time. You just wanted to be carried over the threshold.”

She chuckles a bit and pulls herself deeper into your arms. You put her into your bed and bring her some clothes. Her body is still on fire and she shakes. You realise it’s not regular aftermath of great orgasm what weakens her.

“Are, you alright, Vic? I mean, how do you feel?”

You sit down and help her dress or more like dress her because she really is done.

“I think I have a fever. Some headache, perhaps. Feel a bit dizzy. Lack of sleep and withdrawal symptoms do that to people, I guess.” She starts slowly when you put on some clothes quickly and lie next to her.

“What do you mean by withdrawal symptoms? I know I’m addictive, but I didn’t expect that much.” You try to joke, but somehow you know this is not about your absence.

“When your dad told me a week ago I am part of the family now, I decided this family is better than some sleeping pills addict, fucking MDMA junkie. So I dropped that shit for good. Not the best timing, when having a raging Duchess around but I had to do it if I’m serious about us.”

“Victoria…”

Fucking hell. And she wanted to go through all this alone. Why? You feel so useless. Helpless.

“Victoria, why you didn’t…”

She puts her finger on your lips and sighs.

“Why I wasn’t eager to reveal how damaged I am? How everything around me is so fucked up? Well, guess why.”

“I have no freaking clue, Vic.”

You bring her into your embrace fighting the tears.

“You liked me, and I didn't want you to stop. I didn’t want you to see what waste piece of garbage I am.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I couldn’t even pick the right dress for the fucking betrothal ceremony. I will never have any fucking betrothal ceremony.”

“Don’t…”

“My girlfriend rather spend the evening playing the video games than reply to my messages."

“Don’t talk like that, Vic. Don’t.”

"I can't even do something so fucking simple as sleeping without fucking Diazepam.”

You bring her lips to yours trying to soothe her with the slow kiss. With the little strength that left she succumbs eventually and stops pushing you away. You lean back a bit and tenderly caress her face.

“I love you.”

You say without any preparation, without any previous thinking about it but you hundred percent mean it. You are evidently very much in love with Victoria Chase, and this revelation would feel so much better if she said something. But she remains silent, and after what feels like an eternity she shakes her head closes her eyes and nestles deeper into you embrace. You’d shiver with cold if the heat didn’t emanate from her so profusely.

 _Well done, Chloe!_ When you saw her in your room you thought you cannot be happier, now you are pretty much sure If there was anything you could screw up with Victoria, you did that. You were supposed to make her feel like she’s not a failure and achieved the exact opposite. Because of you, she left Monaco which definitely made her spiteful wretched mother even more enraged and vengeful. And at the top of everything you timed your love confession to the worst possible moment. She didn’t even say anything. She must think you don’t mean that or you said it out of pity or maybe she doesn't fucking need you to love her. Why the fuck she did not say a single word? You want to talk about it right away, you need to explain it was meant the way it was told. Fuck. But Victoria needs rest, she’s not in shape to talk about anything. Damn it! You’ll do at least one fucking thing right.

“I am going to make you some yarrow tea. It should help with the fever since aspirin is not an option for the moment.”

“K” She murmurs and shifts slightly allowing you to move.

“Will, you give me your hoodie or shirt perhaps, something you wore today, till you come back. I want to feel you around.” She adds and makes the tension inside your chest to fade away a bit.

“Sure, baby.”

You hand her the white tank top and leave the room. When in the kitchen you’re forced to turn on the light for the first time tonight. You’d probably manage to make a tea without light, but you don’t want to pick the wrong bag. Diuretic or Diet one, those smell gross. You bet they taste even grosser. Mum has a tea for everything, you on the other hand never understood the hot drinks infatuation. Nothing’s better than ice cold beer, or bottle of vodka on ice. Or so you thought, not long ago. But not anymore it seems. You put the kettle on the stove and in the meantime open the cupboard and find the bag with dried yarrow. It feels nice. You making the Tea for Victoria is such an amazing feeling, you wouldn’t mind to do it every day. When the water boils, and tea infuser is at the right place in the teapot, you pour the water in and scent the irreplaceable familiar sweet scent that reminds you of the sun. You let the tea steep and check the fridge. Finding the lemon makes you feel absolutely excited. You cut it and squeeze some lemon juice and also add a bit of honey to the medicine you hope will make Victoria feel better. You pour the biggest mug you find and head back upstairs.

She doesn’t move when you enter the room but somehow you know she’s still awake.

“It smells nice.”

She says when you sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Not as nice as you but still nice.” She adjusts to sitting position, and you hand her the mug. One of your hands goes around her waist instinctively, fulfilling the undeniable need for physical connection.

“The temperature should be already bearable but still, drink only small sips.”

She nods and does as you suggested. You fucked her hard in the shower half an hour ago, the dampness between your legs reminds you. It was like scoring the winner against Cologne, and you felt so close to her when she screamed your name but this. This is another level of closeness. This is the victory in Champions league finals.

“You know what, Chloe,” she put the mug on the nightstand, “this is the best fucking tea I’ve ever had.”

She gives you a small smile and lays back. You join her in no time making her your little spoon. It would be such a great moment to tell her you love her but you already wasted that opportunity. At least she’s here with you. You’ll figure out the next step tomorrow. You pull her closer if it’s even possible and kiss her shoulder. Not only once. Part of you regrets you can’t have more of her, because you can never possibly have enough of Victoria Chase, but you scold yourself. Being in a relationship embraces more than just being able to fuck your girl hard. And so far it seems like that’s the only thing you’re good at. Well maybe you levelled up the tea making ability recently too, but it’s not enough. You think about your first candid conversation when she didn’t mock you, and you didn’t feel like vomit razor blades when around her, anymore. She was curious how you do it with such ease. _To just exist._ Without the need to be anything to anybody. She made it sound wonderful. No wonder when every moment of her life is fighting for survival. And she’s not even pulled herself trough with grace but also her brother.

Despite what Victoria said, that she considers herself a failure, despite her praise for you on Winter ball, it’s you who failed. But that’s about to change. You’re going to be somebody for her. Somebody she could rely on not somebody who makes her feel weak. Because if you weren’t forced to work together, if this unexpected bond between you two were never created she would probably only miss a date in her tight schedule, a diary entry, still kicking asses, winning the fight against crazy expectation everyone puts on her. You, on the other hand, you’d just exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna hear a story???  
>    
>  You‘re clever, so you already know this „master“piece of mine is about expectations that are put on us by others or by ourselves. The crazy expectations we think we are obliged to fulfil.  
>    
>  Last week I heard about the girl from my old neighbourhood who died, recently. The girl, well young woman my age, who suffered internal organs failure. I couldn‘t stop thinking about this girl. We weren‘t friends or anything, and I don‘t live there anymore for years but I remember her. She was beautiful and funny and smart, and now she‘s dead. The first thing that came to my mind was that she drunk herself to death. I called some old friends, asked if they know anything and reveal things about her death piece by piece.  
>    
>  She had bulimia for years and ruined her body to the point it couldn‘t function any longer. The rumour has it her parents always had the insane expectations on her, and this was her way how to cope. People who should be closest to her, help her, betrayed her like this.  
>    
>  What‘s the point of her rambling, maybe you wonder…  
>    
>  Well, guys, the point is don‘t let anyone to tell you what you should do or who you should be. Don‘t let any expectation to control your life. Whether if it‘s yours or someone elses.  
>  Do what you love and love what you do and don‘t forget you got to lose to know how to win.  
>    
>  Anyway, thanks for reading, I love you all.  
>  xoxo  
>    
>    
>    
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 


	26. The girl who woke up

**Tuesday, December 31, 2013,**

**7:11 am., Price house, Wilstät, Germany**

_The room is dark and cold. Nothing but blurry outlines and chill creeping under your skin. When you try to move, you feel steadfast grip around your neck. It hurts. You instinctively lift your hands trying to find the source of your discomfort. It’s a rope. And it’s tightening. You don’t remember how you got here and why the strands of rough fibre express the urge to cut into your skin. You don’t remember because this is a dream, Victoria. You need to wake up. You manage that so many times before, you can do it again. You can defeat this nightmare. Lack of air becomes a severe issue. You hear yourself choking. The rope is encircling your whole body in a deadly grasp. Come on Victoria, wake up! Follow the white rabbit. You spot him in the corner of the dark room and engage all of your muscles into a desperate attempt to free yourself._

Your eyes are open, but you’re still bewildered. The good thing is there is air in your lungs. What a nice change. You’re pressing your hand on your chest gasping, thinking nothing feels better than breath. You know that once your body sucks up enough oxygen and your heart rate lowers a bit, you’ll be able to function properly again. You kind of get used to it through years. As much as someone can get used to the feeling of dying horrendously. You have been having this dream since you were twelve. First, it brought tears, fear, shame, now it’s just inconvenience you have to deal with. But something’s different for this time.

It’s still dark around, and you’re still cold, but it’s not causing a grim void inside you anymore. It’s just a physical condition. And you’re not alone. There is the strong but caring arm around your shoulders. It belongs to Chloe Price. You’re slowly coming back to full consciousness and realise her other hand is linked with yours stuck to your chest when she’s helping you to steady the breathing.

“It’s ok, Vic. I’m right here. It was just a dream.”

She wasn’t ready to face something like this, you can tell. It’s you who give nightmares not have them after all. But there is a noteworthy hint of determination to stay by your side behind her words too. At least for now.

Part of you still wants to tell her to back off because you can handle this by yourself as you always did. But you don’t need to. Not anymore. She’s made it clear. Would it be so bad, if you let her be your support? She knows who you are, heinous bitch good for nothing without pappa’s money, and sticks around regardless.

“I know. I know, Chloe. I’ve been through this many times before. But thanks for your concerns.”

It supposed to be a smile what appears on your face, but it’s a painful half grin, more or less.

“And I’m sorry if I woke you. Or scared you.”

She zones out, and you come to the conclusion it’s going to be too much to handle for her. You don’t blame her, but you can’t stay and act like you didn’t hope for the better outcome.

“Anyway, I better go.”

“What? No! Where would you go? You belong with me.”

She squeezes your hand and brings it to her lips. _Come on Victoria, don’t be a quitter._ Chloe wants you.

“I-I just. You should not see me like this.”

“You mean charming and beautiful as always?”

“If you consider sweaty, gasping, soaked mess charming and beautiful you have a peculiar taste, Price. But who am I to question it.”

“You are my girlfriend, Vic. And if you don’t want me to see you like this, I can close my eyes, but you’re not leaving.” She pulls you into her arms, and it’s almost perfect.

“You’re freezing. Another withdrawal syndrome stage?”

“ I guess.”

“Just hold on, baby.” She kisses your forehead.

“I’ll bring you tea and new clothes and blanket and…” And you kiss her lips, shivering.

“I love you.”

Damn, you wanted to say it so many times and looking at Chloe you think the moment when you finally find the courage to do so is the right one.

“Of course you love me, I’m fucking awesome.” Because she kisses you back bursting with happiness.

“But next time, don’t wait till next day to say it back. It’s kind of stressful, you know.”

“So you said it, yesterday? I thought I was hallucinating.”

“Are you kidding? How could you doubt I said it.”

Well, Chloe how could I not, you think but keep silent, just shrug off your shoulders.

“Stop it! And take off the sweaty clothes.”

She takes the blanket your fever ruined and hands you one of her black hoodies.

“Use this to warm you till I’m back, it’s not much, but…”

“Shush, you know I love it. Now go cause I want you back ASAP before I become an ice cube.”

She leaves, and you do as she asked. The t-shirt and shorts are drenched after the fever attack, so you gladly get rid of them and snuggle into the hoodie and lay back. You could simply reach for the wardrobe and take other clothes, you’re too weak for that though. Your teeth are chattering. _Oh my, it’s so loud._ And your body shakes so hard you wonder if nearest seismic monitor registered any earthquake activity. You curse yourself for letting Chloe leave because you could use her hot body. Only for warming for this time. When you think, you’re on the edge of hypothermia she finally shows up. You’re not much aware of what’s going on, but she probably put the steaming mug on the nightstand and wrapped you in the blanket she brought. Both of you. And took off her tank top and your hoodie in the process because her naked torso is tightly pressed against yours to warm you.

“It’s going to be alright.” She whispers and softly kisses your hair.

“No more bad dreams. We will make good ones, together.” You don’t feel particularly well, but you know you’re getting there. With Chloe Price around.

“Just imagine your first exhibition, grand opening. Everyone adores you and your work but not as much as your amazing girlfriend who shows up with the gold medal she just  won in the world cup and put it around your neck.”

“That’s a nice fantasy hun, but I think I have a better one.”

“Do tell, then.”

“I’m cold and feel like shit, so many things are haunting me. But my girl is right next to me. Bringing the warmth and joy and I know it all gets better. She squeezes me tighter. “ She does. “And sing a lullaby for me perhaps. Shuns all bad dreams.”

“That’s what you dream about?”

“Uh-huh.”

You teased her a bit, but she clears her throat and starts with a quiet hum.

 

 

> _Every time that I look in the mirror_
> 
> _All these lines in my face gettin' clearer_
> 
> _The past is gone;_
> 
> _It went by like dusk to dawn_
> 
> _Isn't that the way?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Everybody's got their dues in life to pay_
> 
> _I know nobody knows_
> 
> _Where it comes and where it goes_
> 
> _I know it's everybody sin_
> 
> _You got to lose to know how to win_
> 
>  
> 
> _Sing with me,_
> 
> _Sing for the year,_
> 
> _Sing for the laugh and sing for the tear._
> 
> _Dream on, dream on, dream on_
> 
> _Dream until your dream come true_
> 
>  

“Final a proper rock song, Chloe Price.” You say or think you said and dream on.

* * *

 

You wake up, and for this time there is no cold nor darkness around. The room is full of sunlight, and surprisingly you have clothes on. Chloe’s clothes. She must dress you when you were half asleep half delirious. SC Sand sweatpants and a worn t-shirt with raven is your outfit for now. Still, it feels better than Ralph Lauren and Giorgio Armani combined. You turn to your side and realise your hand is captured in a tender but firm embrace. Watching over you is not the only activity your companion is engaged in. Her other hand holds the book you are very familiar with. You want to say something but decide this moment is too perfect to be interrupted.

“Take some more tea.” She says after a moment still focused on the book. You are about to reach for the mug when an excellent idea pops into your head.

“I’ve had nothing yet, so I can’t take more.”

“You mean, you can’t take less.” She smiles and puts the book she just quoted away. “It’s very easy to take more than nothing.”

“How many times you read that book?” You snuggle into her.

“How many times you read it?” Pfff, she must know.

“Zillion, so what about you?”

“Every time I missed you. So, zillion and ten.”

“You are mad as a march hare, Chloe.”

“Yes, that’s it. Now have some tea, Vic. It’s always a tea time.”

You chuckle and have the tea eventually. You’ve loved Alice adventures in wonderland since you can remember and now you’re lying in the bed of the girl who understands it’s not only a book for you. It's a curse. Does it mean, this curse is finally broken and you can be happy? You hope so.

She brings you closer one hand caresses your face the other slides under your shirt. Well, her shirt. But the intention behind this move is not just an act of affection. She finds the very specific spot on your back and strokes it.

“Vic, I want you to tell me what’s this.”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” You completely forget about _that thing_ or what caused it. And it's freaking embarrassing, so no wonder you get all defensive.

“It's not nothing. It’s a very fresh wound. Burn.”

You don’t want to look at her, but the soft touch of the palm of her hand makes you and you realise there is no point in lying, no point in being afraid to look weak. She already knows you.

“The Duchess wasn’t particularly happy about my departure. Very much aware she wouldn't be able to stop me, she decided to do as much damage as possible at least. So she took the first thing she reached and threw it at me. It happened to be white-hot poker.”

“What? I’ll kill her. I-I…”

“It’s alright. I’m alright.”

“No, it’s fucking not. That bitch will burn in hell.”

“Yes, she will but please Chloe, let it happen without your interference.”

“No one will hurt you, especially not the fucking Duchess.”

Not sure what’s she planning but transformed into vengeful goddess it kind of looks like she is about to go Monaco and beat the shit out of your dear mother. The thought is not unpleasant, but you have to dismiss it.

“Chloe...”

You gently reach for her hand and pull her back. She’s angry and determined and could kill your effort to embrace her in no time even if you weren’t extremely weakened by your recent physical condition. So you use the only thing that left. The caress. With soft loving touches, you’re able to bring her right into your arms.

“The Duchess is the vile, despicable wretched woman, and her main goal is to seed the evil viciousness everywhere she can. You saw it the first hand. You saw me before.”

“She can’t do this to you, Vic.”

“Let it go, Chloe. If you let her make you angry and spiteful, she’ll win.”

“But..”

You press your lips on hers and lingers.

“You’ve freed me from her influence. Nothing else matters. Only you and me, baby.”

Before she can say anything, your lips continue what they started a moment ago.  

* * *

 

You wake up for the third time today. According to the amount of the light in the room or more like lack of it it must be late afternoon. You reach for Chloe’s side of the bed, but it’s empty.  She’s nowhere to find, but you notice a big note on the nightstand.

_Find me downstairs. I’m making pancakes, and you need to eat something._

You’re not particularly eager to leave the bed that smells like Chloe, but since actually being with her is an option and you wouldn’t mind eating something, you’ll do as the note suggests. You need to pee first, though. You find your pants folded on the vanity in the bathroom after, your phone in the pocket. It’s still on. Lots of messages, lots of missed calls. Will you have a panic attack if you check them, you wonder. There are some from Taylor and Freddy, a lot from the Duchess and one from Richard W. Chase. You sigh and open it.

Richard W. Chase

_I spoke with your mother, she believes I’m behind your sudden departure. Nevertheless, I know you’re safe with your girlfriend.  In any case, if you’d like to spend new year’s Eve with Freddy and me in Liechtenstein my driver is ready to bring you here in no time. Just say a word._

You don’t reply. It gives you chills that he knows where you are. On the other hand, it’s for the best the Duchess thinks he’s involved not Chloe. Richard W. Chase could settle everything in no time. Give you as much money as you need even buy a small place perhaps, where would you stay if needed to leave the mansion. But when you allowed that, you’d be obliged. You’d never be able to get rid of old habits, of your pointless indulgence in wealth. Besides he can stick his effort to the place, it hurts. He was fucking useless every time when you fucking needed someone who cares, someone who loves you. The Duchess, she at least was around. Maybe that’s why you developed this ill emotional connection with her when she did nothing but harassed and mistreated you. The thought brings dizziness. And that’s why you won’t think about it now. _You won’t!_ You reply to Freddy and Taylor, reassure them you’re alright and leave the phone in the bathroom.

Heading downstairs, the daring smell of pancakes infiltrates your whole system. When did you eat the last time? You don’t remember. When did you eat pancakes for breakfast the last time? You do remember surely. Never. Well, this won’t be a breakfast either because it’s 4 pm. Or why fucking not. When you spot Chloe leaning over the stove with earplugs singing some crazy song, you believe everything’s possible. Although, there is only one thing you desire right now. She can’t hear you approaching when your right hand slides under her shirt and left one removes the earplugs. You press your body on her back and your lips on her ear.

“You’re beautiful.”

She exhales, flips the pancake and turns to you. Her lips immediately seek yours, and you feel the taste of honey and cinnamon and last but not least, the best one. The taste of Chloe Price.

“You’re the good looking one, Vic. I’m smart and funny. But thx anyway.”

“Silly. You’re silly. And beautiful.”

“You’re delirious because of starvation. Go sit on the couch, and I’ll bring you pancakes.”

“Alright, beautiful. I’ll be waiting.”

You give her another soft kiss and head to the living room. The couch is ready to be snuggled in, and that’s exactly what you do. Too bad you can’t see your silly beautiful girlfriend from here but as she promised she shows in no time with the plate full of pancakes.

“Turn away.”

“What?”

“Turn away! A girl should have her privacy when eating pancakes.”

“I’ve never heard about that rule because it doesn’t exist.”

“Still, I don’t need you to see me consuming this diabetes catalyst and get all messy.”

“Vic, there is nothing you could show me that would make me like you any less.”

You are about to say you doubt that but she strokes your ruffled hair and her eyes are nothing but full of love and devotion, and you cannot be more grateful that from all of the people in the world this remarkable girl fell in love with you. So you just smile and finally take a bite of the best pancakes in the world. Damn. You must look like you have multiple foodgasms, which you definitely have because Masterchef chuckles and enjoys herself greatly. After you’re done, you put the plate on the coffee table, and foodgasms are replaced with a food coma. You collapse into Chloe’s lap and relish her gentle touches.

“I thought about what you said. About the Duchess.” She says cautiously.

_You didn’t really believe she would just drop, did you?_

“And I can’t just drop it. I can’t. I would hate myself if I let her hurt you again. In any way.”

You know you must escape the Duchess influence, eventually. You became sure of it the day in Cologne when Chloe told you to take your crazy damaged sociopathic personality and be finally gone from her life. But it’s not like you can just take your leave and say goodbye to your _beloved_ mother or family. You already have a good plan, even if it may be a bit corrupted by your rushed escape from Monaco, you trust it, and you have to be patient. So does the girl who doesn’t want you to be hurt again.

“Chloe, listen,” You sit up and put your palms around her neck in courageous attempt to suppress the pure Chloe-ness in her, “whatever you do it turns against you, against us. You can’t beat the Duchess in her own game. So please stay out of it. I know it sounds cowardly and boring and so not Chloe Price like but it’s the only way.”

You stay lighthearted and calm and determined because you feel safe and adored and it gives you the strength to overcome anything in your way without a hysterical outburst.

“But…”

Even Chloe’s stubbornness.

“If you’ll intervene she hurt you and it’ll hurt me in the end. Think about what you said.”

“I’ll do fucking intervene, baby. Some rich bitch won’t hurt me nor you anymore.”

“And what will you do?”

“I-I…”

“Politely ask her to stop spilling her poison around and go fuck herself instead?”

“Yes, but not politely.”

“And beat the shit out of her?”

“Yes, yes.”

“And then what, Chloe?”

“Some-thing. I’ll figure out something.”

“Maybe we can run away to the sunset and live happily ever after.” You tease and smirk.

“Vic, I’m serious.”

“Me too, hun. Let it go. Please. I’ll handle it.”

“How? If you are going to tell me how I may consider abandoning my urge to beat the shit out of your mother.”

“I’m not quite sure, yet.”

It’s not true, but Chloe doesn’t need to know.

“Holy guacamole. So how is your plan better than mine?”

You already know you were accepted for Art school in Barcelona under the condition you graduate in time and thanks to the victory in young photograph contest you are going to be granted the full stipendium. With your skill, you can earn enough money working as a dull Elite model look photographer, till you can exhibit works you really desire to. Freddy stays with Richard W. Chase so you can cut all of the ties with the Duchess after the graduation. Which is in five months. You have to hold on for five months and gather as many resources as you can. Life in Barcelona seemed precisely what you needed and wanted. Before Chloe Price said she loves you and you belong with her. But Barcelona thing can be fixed. Maybe she can play for Barcelona, you’ll sell the Audi and hire her an agent who’ll make a deal. Except she definitely sees her football future in Berlin playing for Potsdam, not freaking Barcelona. But this can be settled later. Now you have to appease her. And yourself.

“Six hours in the car gave me a time to ponder. So the good thing is, I am already an adult, and I have a lot of expensive craps I can sell, which can grant me enough money for the beginning. Taylor’s mum is a sweetheart so she’ll let me stay for as long as I need to be out of the mansion if I’ll decide to that. The bad thing…”

“You’ve already talked about this with Taylor, but you didn’t bother to tell your girlfriend anything!?”

“Babe…”

“Well, maybe you’d rather date Taylor then.”

“Babe…”

“But I bet she would not stand a chance in hand to hand combat against the Duchess.”

You fight, basically. But it’s nothing like any of your fights in the past. This is not a race when one of you suppose to beat the other. And Chloe is not really annoyed or mad, she’s concerned. And you are astonished because she cares. She’s jealous and worried about you and your happiness. And the best part of this bicker is that every argument brings you closer and closer to the point when your lips are pressed together, and you can use the new superpower you learnt from Chloe, yesterday. Kiss-silencing. When you’re convinced, it worked and also savour a sufficient amount of your love you try to explain.

“I was losing my mind when you weren’t picking up the phone and have six hours to contemplate about it. Of course, I called Taylor, she’s my best friend. Besides the Duchess scares her to death so she wouldn’t want to be anywhere near her if not absolutely necessary so it excludes any physical harm.”

She frowns probably thinking about what you said, nods after the moment as approval of your action and leaves a peck on your nose.

“So what’s the bad news, then?”

“Huh?”

“You said you trust Taylor more than me and called it good news. I can’t wait to hear the bad ones.”

“I did not say such a thing, and you surely remember you were out of reach hunkered down in the bar full of girls who wanted to fuck you.” You reply to her obvious tease with the same playful manner.

“Anyway, the bad news…The bad news is my mother won’t let me go easily. She doesn’t want me to leave. She wants me to stay, she wants me to obey her. To become her, eventually.”

“Well, what about if you stay here. No way she approaches a place like this. The house of the blue collar worker. You’ll be safe here, hidden from her hideous games.”

“Chloe, as great as it may seem now you know we shouldn’t do that. We are not there, yet.”

“I suppose we aren’t.”

You know her suggestion was out of sanity. Still, you feel weirdly disappointed from all of the matters she decided to not dispute only about this one.

“Besides, the longer my mother doesn’t know, what causes my rebellion the better. Staying with Taylor is the safe bet.” There is nothing ulterior behind your words quite the opposite, you want to protect Chloe, but it causes some collateral damage anyway.

“What do you mean?”

She moves and your bodies part. You try but can’t put the finger on what could cause a sudden unpleasant feeling of coldness in your surroundings.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? It’s unfortunate that Richard W. Chase knows about us, but he was in the hospital when I had my first _I’m in love outburst_ ever,” butterflies in stomach start to fly thinking about that, “thank fuck he’s in Liechtenstein now, so it doesn’t bother me that much. But the Duchess…

“Are you ashamed of me?”

So this is the case.

“I-I guess I-I get it you’re a fucking princess or something, and I’m…”

“Chloe...Chloe, I’m not the princess, and I will only say this once more because I am positive for this time you’ll listen.”

You break her vain resistance and pull her toward you.

“I am not ashamed of you. The reason why I don’t want you near my mother and my family is because they are dangerous mental people.”

Your fingers trail her face tenderly till you’re confident she believes you.

“I want to protect you. From her. From all that.”

“I want to protect you too, Vic. I want to do something, not just sit idly watching you fight this battle alone.”

“Well, there is something.”

You smile, and she does too, excited about that task you’re going to give her.

“I dare you to love me.” But your words are not what she expected.

“Vic, I already do love you. I love you so much, but...”

“Chloe, then you’re doing more than anyone ever did for me. If this is not enough for you, I don’t know what will be.”

She stares at you and against all of your effort to not allow it for the second time in last 24 hours the tears come down your face.  Now she notices.

“Oh, Vic.”

You’re back where you want to be, pressed on Chloe’s chest her hands squeezing you in the tight hug and you hope she finally gets it.

“I can be such a dummy sometimes, I’m so sorry.”

She is. But she is your dummy, and you are hers. Enjoying her slow strokes, little kisses you count every first time you had with Chloe Price, like having pancakes on breakfast at 4 pm and ending in the loving embrace of the most adorable cook, and also think about how many will follow. She has a contemplation of her own, you realise when she starts, hesitantly.

“Soooo… does this thing with the Duchess mean we… you, know, we are staying low profile? Not open about our relationship?”

Frankly, you’re not sure what it means, how it will work because it’s a first time for you. You shift and look in her beautiful eyes.

“No.I-I don’t know. I would not call you for the cheesy romantic type, so I guess you do not yearn for holding hands in school or something. I would recommend to not do that, for now. Or inviting your for dinner to Chase manor as my official girlfriend, but you probably don’t desire to visit that place either. So we can be open, to our friends and your family but behind these circle, I would be cautious for now. Is it too much to ask?”

“No, of course not, babe.”

You can tell she means it and you’re happy she understands.

“But let’s not talk about it know, we are blessed with each other for this evening so let’s made the best of it.”

“Ok. If that’s what you want, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want. Just rest in the lap of my girlfriend. Unless you plan some New year’s eve party.”

“I had enough parties for the lifetime. Most of them I don’t remember. Spending the time on the couch will be something new, actually.”

“And we can watch horrible tv special, perhaps.”

“Sounds awful. Let’s do it then.”

She pulls you back into her embrace, and you do it all evening. It’s fun and pleasant, and the most mundane New years eve you’ve ever experienced. And also the most perfect one. You couldn’t even dare to imagine such level of closeness, intimacy, trust exists before Chloe, and now when you are experiencing it the first hand, you don’t want to give up on it, ever. At some point, you both fall asleep locked together. No nightmares for this time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Chloe sings for Victoria is Dream on from Aerosmith.
> 
> This one
> 
> I could come with some real Uni, but I chose Victoria to pick _„the Art school in Barcelona“_ as a reference and an honour to the movie D.E.B.S. I guess if you saw it, you’ll know why, if don’t check it maybe ;-) Some consider it a disaster but I find it hilarious.
> 
> _Wake up, Victoria and follow the white rabbit_ is a reference to the movie Matrix, that originally use it as a reference to the book you already might be familiar with.
> 
> The conversation about taking more tea or less for that matter is from Alice adventures in wonderland, but I suppose there is no need to stress it, this little obsession of mine with Alice adventures is already known to you. lol


	27. The girl who lived happily ever after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who's back. :) 
> 
> First of all, I'm genuinely really sorry I went AWOL for weeks. I could explain, but surely you're interested in Chloe’s and Victoria’s story not in mine :)
> 
> And in case you forgot, Frankfurt happened between chapter 11 and chapter 12. It was mentioned but never elaborated.
> 
> Also...Xanax-ed Victoria watching the game: chapter 4, First hug: chapter 5, First night together: chapter 9, First kiss: chapter 15.

**Sunday, January 5, 2014,**

**03:09 am.,  Price house, Wilstätt, Germany**

You lie on your back (naked), and Victoria is tucked against your side head on your shoulder. The level of moonlight tonight is insane. Rays of light permeating through the window illuminate her like incredible treasure hidden in an ancient tomb for centuries now finally uncovered by the accidental adventurer. Yeah, you definitely didn’t expect to find such a rare gemstone on your eternal eerie task _make it to the end of the day without trouble._ According to slow, steady breathing, you thought she fell asleep, but she didn’t. One of her hands comes to life and traces the moist skin on your tummy. Gently. Thoroughly.

This is the third time you made love. You tried to hold yourself in check because Victoria was recovering from the week in Monaco dealing with many issues and also she struggled a bit with the thought of your parents and Trevor at home. But today after the dinner you caught her staring at you when you were doing the dishes, and you knew. She was craving you as much as you were craving her.

It still gets under your skin. How you never thought it could be like this. Wonderful combo of bliss and intimacy. And you have a lot to compare to. Dozens of nameless girls you spend the night with. Well, technically never the whole night. Just moments of raw pleasure. You couldn’t even look at them after it was done. After the greed for being wanted was satisfied, you hated them because it wasn’t any of these girls you wanted to want you, indeed. There is also a fair share of romantic feelings in your past, purely platonic of course. Nothing sexual really happen between you and your first love Max. The one you wanted the one who ditched you without an explanation and you thought you failed her. You blamed yourself for not being enough for her. Now you know, it wasn’t the case, but the bitter feeling, corrupted memory of not meeting required qualities for being a girlfriend will never evaporate completely.

Anyway, there are countless distinctions between now and then. The one that strained from others overwhelms you from time to time. Scares even, perhaps. With Victoria, you always want more. More of her body, of her attention, of all of those layers, colours hidden behind the thickest curtain in the deepest part of her soul. More of everything. And you’re always ready to give more.

It’s funny that she knows so many love life related pieces of your past. The casual hook-ups thingy is kind of an open secret and part of your reputation and the Max thing, well, she freaking talked with Max herself about that. So...  You, on the other hand, know nothing. You don’t even know if she’s gay. That thought never crossed your mind before… _Before when exactly Chloe? Before the first night at the mansion, before Frankfurt, before the knock-down incident?_ When you think about it retrospectively, maybe it was the very first time on the Stadium. God, you hated her back then. She invaded your home ground with a blond barbie glued to her the whole time, being a little too affectionate. Knowing what you know now, there was no proof of anything considering Victoria was probably heavily Xanax-ed, and Taylor only wanted to catch Steph’s attention.

“Vic?”

She doesn’t reply but her hands laying still suggests she’s listening.

„Am I the first girl, who…“

You trail off. Well, shit. You kind of didn’t think this through, did you?  Do you want to ask about any girl lovers? Or only about if she and Taylor were ever a thing or do you even really want to ask anything? The silence is longer than you’d desired.

„...who told me she rather vomit razorblades than work with me? Yeah, you are.“

She completes your sentence, and you feel her smiling against your chest.

„That’s not… I meant. I mean…“ In fact, you are not even remotely close to what in the hell do you mean.“ Am I the first girl, who--“

You stammer again and Victoria shifts slightly, so she can look right into your eyes. She’s not mad nor surprised or disappointed. Her expression is playful. Before she can tease you again, you blurt, „Who you kissed, slept with, dated… or such,“ and feel like an idiot. She pouts and gives you a peck.

„Why? Are my lezzie skills not advanced enough?“

„Oh, your lezzie skills are legendary, trust me.“

„So what’s the catch then?“

„Nothing, no catch. I just--  You know pretty much everything about my love life. You know about Max, you know about infamous fangirls hook-ups. Unfortunately.“ You sigh. You definitely confusing her by this rambling.

„The only known person you were associated with is Nathan Prescott, and that night in the hospital you said you neither slept with him nor dated him.”

“I didn’t.”

“I just wondered if there is someone in your past, who could show up. Some secret lover, buried deep down in your heart or six feet under.”

“Holly mother of God. Is this because of the shitty tv show you watched, today?” She burst into laughter.

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

You frown and try to not look too embarrassed. Well, it’s Victoria’s fault, anyway. Freddy called her, and you thought it will take like ten minutes, but they spoke for more than two hours. Which is cool he is her lil bro, but she should prepare you for such a long break.  If you knew you’d find more meaningful activity. Thinking she’ll be right back you got stuck with the tv and accidentally watched two episodes of this utterly preposterous and obnoxious teen drama called Pretty Little Liars, and it might catalyse the idea there is someone in Victoria’s past, who could appear and mingle with her affairs.

“Everyone thought, including me, you’re straight judgmental bitch head over heels with rich boy Nathan and then boom. Your super close BFF is a lesbian, and you have a steamy affair with badass SC Sand lady captain.”

“Chloe Elizabeth Price, how dare you to lower this spectacular connection of souls to the simple affair. Even if it is steamy as hell.”

She fakes the anger for a split second then captures your lips. True to her words, the way she does it is fucking steamy, but it feels nothing like an affair. And so you thought you’re done for tonight and cannot come again. She proves you wrong. Specifically, her tongue does.

You’ve resumed your position preceding the _Am I the first girl_ conversation but for this time Victoria’s hand caresses your arm. The well-deserved slumber is about to overcome you when she talks for a change.

“There is no one, Chloe, only you” she mutters her head resting still on your shoulder, “I thought you know that.”

“So you’ve never been with a…” _Girl? Taylor? Why the fuck you cannot just drop it, Chloe, why?_ Thank fuck, Victoria stops you before something idiotic leaves your mouth. She pulls you towards herself, making you lie on your side, so you face each other, your noses brushing.

“I’ve never been with someone I loved. I never thought I could love anyone. I never believed anyone could love me.” Is her answer to your unspoken question.

“I'm stupid, again, ain’t I?”

“You’re not stupid, my love.” She calls you her love and those twisted threads of doubts in your head start to unravel slowly but surely. “Not exactly wise, when seeking for information of this kind but not stupid either. And I guess I understand why it’s on your mind. The Max factor was killing me when I didn’t know better.”

You claim her lips instead of saying that Max is not a factor anymore. She smiles softly into your mouth, but when she pulls away, her expression hardens.

“There were some in New York. Thoughtfully chosen young men and women I kissed or slept with. I did what I thought was expected of me. I was a trophy, an achievement. That’s why they sought me, and that’s why I enjoyed my role in that fucked-up play. I was wanted. Recognized. I learnt how to be a predator when being prey. I loved the feeling, and I hated it. Disgusted with myself, because I knew what they were really looking for wasn’t me but the illusion, a construct of twisted rules of social stratification I was confined to represent. I did horrible things back then, taking the role too seriously. Damn, I am so happy I left New York.”

“Me, too.” _Oh, bloody hell, you too. You too._

She strokes your hair, and you desperately want to spot the spark of happiness in her eyes again.

“Then you showed up. Chloe fucking Price. Total wanker, stupid jock, eternal tosser. The first person in my fucking life who didn’t need nor demand anything from me. And because of that traitors Kellerman's, it was me who needed you.“

She scoffs at the thought and shakes her head. What would happen, if they picked someone else, you wonder. Would she be lying in someone else's bed right now?

“You even dared to turn me down, for fuck sake. No one ever turned me down before. No man, no woman. But you, infamous womaniser, you did and even offer the comfort instead.”

Thank fuck for that decision. Or your unconsciousness. If you fucked her that night, you couldn’t look at her the next day. And she would only see you as easy hook-up. She would never respect you.

“You’re definitely not what I thought you were when we were forced to work together. It took some time to realise how much but I needed you, Chloe and you came. I didn’t know I was looking for love until I found you. You gave me more than anyone else in this world without asking anything back. You fucking cared. I was trying to manipulate you, use you, keep pushing you away and you saw right through it and still cared. No one else could’ve gotten to me, even if they wanted. No one. Only you.”

 _Did someone else try? Did Taylor or Nathan?_ You want to ask but bite your lip instead. You decide to stop being an idiot for once and let her bare her soul. That’s what you wanted after all, right?

“You hugged me when I was ready to slap you because the Duchess pissed me. You refuse to take advantage of me when I practically begged you to fuck me and comfort me instead. And you forgave me with ease when I acted like a moron after that. Remember Frankfurt?”

“You put my picture on your wall.”

“I did. I think it was the first time I dared to admit to myself that being around you makes me happy. I suppose I had never been happy before. Not for real.”

Frankfurt. So many ups and downs happened between you and Victoria since October, but Frankfurt was the sweetest thing, for sure. The moment your right hand reaches for her left and brings it to your lips hers shadows the movement, so there is no free no unkissed hand left. You smirk. It seems you both feel the same impulse to relive this memory.

_You came back from the national team trip. It was your first call-up. And you had an actual playtime not only bench-warming. It was the most significant achievement in your whole fucking life. Even when you were doing great on the field after you had stopped sabotaging yourself with various psychoactive substances, even when the coach had woken up your leadership qualities making you SC Sand captain, call-up was a pleasant surprise._

_This unexpected turn of events could be cheerful enough. Somewhere in the background, something completely different left permanent footprints in the desert plains of your dying heart, though. Well, it wasn’t dying anymore. You were already happy because everything in your life made sense again. Or for the first time perhaps. It was such an odd feeling after all the time when you just existed. Satisfactory but odd. And then you saw Victoria in Frankfurt airport arrival hall standing there looking breathtaking as always and realised you knew nothing about happiness till that moment. The moment that certainly carried some mystique. Maybe it was because the whole first call-up experience, maybe it was because the states of mind Victoria kept triggering were so uncharted. Part of you felt like it wasn’t even you walking towards her. It felt like you were just a sole observer of this strange story with an excess of joy. Your body was drawn to hers. She was… she looked cautious and agitated, and the subtle smile she was giving you become more and more visible the shorter the distance between you became._

_“You came?!” You said. You were supposed to take a train. Mum had called you the day before and apologise for not being able to pick you up from Frankfurt. The thing was, Victoria made an agreement with your parents._

_“I will always find my way to you, Price.” She replied, unable to hide the excitement she felt anymore._

_You dropped your bag and throw your arms around her. It surprised you both, but she didn’t shy away from the hug. Not at all. You surely didn’t understand how did you feel about Victoria and there was no reason to analyse it. Something like love wasn’t anywhere close to your mind, but it felt amazing. You were carefree, lightheaded, happy. For the moment or for the eternity you were bound to your own universe, and nothing else outside it mattered. Her usually tensed body relaxed against yours, and she buried her face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling. You._

_“Missed me much, huh?” She whispered with a hint of smug and pinch of excitement, and you realised you were bringing her closer and closer tentatively, the palms of your hands slowly rubbing her back._

_“No. Not a bit.” The sound of your voice betrayed the words escaping your mouth. You didn’t even try to pretend it was a total lie._

_“Yeah. I didn’t miss you either.”_

_Her hand got gently tangled up in your hair making it clear breaking the contact was not an option. It was like if you did that it would also break the spell and you would become those persons again who cannot and would not miss each other. Not in the world.  Unfortunately, NT assistant coach approached you, cleared her throat awkwardly and reminded you, there were still some formalities you had to go through before leaving NT. Victoria promised to wait for you in front of the DFB headquarters. What happened next, you’re not quite sure. Because first tangible memory you can reconstruct is you entering the silver Audi two hours later and not only she was there waiting for you but also the salmon sandwich and Fritz kola. The grin on your face must be massive because Victoria burst into laughter._

_“Always hungry. I thought so.”_

_She noted amusingly. You just shook your head and enjoyed your snack in silence letting chuckling royalty drive you through the busy streets of Frankfurt. When you hit the highway, and that super delicious sandwich was eradicated,  your attention was free to focus on the most enthralling thing nearby. Victoria. First, you only glanced, but you couldn’t help it and your glances involved into stares. You couldn’t stop yourself, nor you wanted. You were so delighted to have her close again. Of course, she noticed._

_“What? Do I have something on my face?” She teased not looking at you at all._

_“Except that smug grin of yours? Chase trademark. No, I don’t think so.”_

_“Stop staring then. It’s my intellectual property and is under the copyright. No free staring.”_

_“Of course I’m not staring for free. As a part of the fair barter, I dedicate you this extraordinary song.”_

_You reached for the radio and started to browse hoping you find some suitable piece. It probably took too long because the centre of her interest shifted from your conversation to your exposed bruised hand._

_“God Dammit, Price. When you had time to do fistfight?”_

_She possessed it carefully inspecting the chafed knuckles. You heard the words but couldn’t muster the will to reply. The heat from the place she held spread quickly to your chest, going lower made your body tremble. She missed your reaction because her attention was sliding between the road and your hand in hers. You brought your shits together in the meantime. Or tried._

_“Uh.. I didn’t. Slovak striker stomped on it. Cleats are a nasty thing. And for your information, Victoria Chase, I do not do fistfights. At least not anymore.”_

_“Not anymore? Never mind.”_

_She gave you the quick_ **_why I am even surprised look_ ** _and turned back to driving. Still only one of her hands engaged. Suddenly you were daunted by the thought the other one is going to release yours._

_“Does it hurt?”_

_You don’t know how, but you knew once you answer the question, your hand holding will be over.  You couldn’t allow that._

_“It doesn’t. It doesn’t hurt now.” The emphasis on the word_ **_now_ ** _couldn’t be missed but to underline it, you twined your fingers together, sending the message even you weren’t ready to decode. Her gaze was steadied on the road for the long moment till she accepted the offer and let your hands rest on the centre console. You let out the deep breath and relaxed into the seat. Then closed your eyes and relished the strange buzzing in your lower tummy, spreading heat and the sweet soft moves of her thumb, tracing the back of your hand. There was some light conversation going on filled in with comfortable silence. You don’t remember much what you were talking about, but you recollect those wordless parts very precisely. There was no doubt it wasn’t the sensation you’d soon forget. If ever. Such a plain occurrence, simple contact of two hands was always considered as pathetic or awkward at least in your eyes. Sitting there in the comfy seat of silver Audi doing just the exact thing seemed like you want nothing else if Victoria would be the holder. Leaving the highway not only meant you were almost back at Wilstätt but also that little fairytale of yours was coming to an end. She released the hold because  the city streets required using the transmission a.k.a using both hands when driving. You had only a little time to adjust to the thought that once you get out of the car, this memory sequence will be locked. Forbidden to re-enter. Same as the night in the mansion. No more holding hands, strange intimacy. Only heiress and social outcast forced working together. She stopped the car in front of your house, and you noticed her knuckles were white as she was gripping the steering wheel. She didn’t dare to look at you. You didn’t dare to speak. It was inevitable your perfect afternoon will end eventually, but It didn’t suppose to be like that. Both of you deserved better, but she made herself unapproachable._

_“Maybe you should go, it’s getting late.”_

_It wasn’t cold-hearted bitch Victoria talking to you, but it wasn’t happy Victoria either. She struggled, you struggled, the air became heavy._

_“Yeah, yeah. Of course, I should. Anyway, thanks for the ride.”_

_It took a second for you to decide doing the first thing that comes to your mind is the best and only right thing to do._

_“I didn’t mean--”_

_You leaned in and kissed her on the cheek in haste. It had to be the most embarrassing kiss you ever delivered, but she smiled. When you were leaving the car you glanced her way, and she smiled, and you were high in the clouds again._

Damn it! You were so bold and fierce before. You always pushed your luck with her. Hand holding, tricking her into a kiss on your mouth, your first hug. Why it was so easy then when now it’s almost an ongoing struggle she’ll change her mind and leave you. You’re asking yourself, but you already know. You just need to admit that you got nothing to lose back then. And now, everything is at stake.

“So why did you hug me? That first time in the mansion.”

Her words bring you back to reality. To answer the question, you have to go back in time again, though. Almost to the very beginning.

“I’d lied if I said I was in control of what was happening.”

In fact, it totally weirded you out. What you did before you left the mansion. Her vile attitude towards you didn’t change, and you still considered it repulsive, but that evening you saw real Victoria for the first time. Loving and caring, even smiling when with Freddy and incredibly lonely when came back from the patio after the talk with her mother.

“So you didn’t want to do that?”

“Oh, I did want to. I wanted to hug you so badly, it almost caused a blast in my head. It was a total eclipse. Haughty and heinous. You tried hard to be that way but all I could see was a lonely girl in her lonely world, and suddenly I needed her to know she’s not alone. And it was so so weird when I left and came back to my senses because we hated each other. Still, your scent lingered all around me and made my head spin.”

“I felt the same,” she gives you a light smile and slow kiss, “about the hug, about your scent about the head spinning.”

“You don’t feel lonely anymore, then? I hope.”

“No. Definitely not. So can you-- can we let past things in the past and have our happily ever after. And maybe some sleep too?”

There is still so much you don’t know about her, the things you cannot even imagine. And somehow you suspect some of those are denied to you on purpose. It freaks you out but not because you would like Victoria any less if you knew but because you’re worried you’d had no clue how to deal with it and appalled Victoria doesn’t consider you to be eligible to take it. But maybe you should not see yourself as precarious and stop focusing on what if. Maybe there is no one else for Victoria, after all, maybe the Duchess will leave her alone, eventually, maybe there were enough shits in your lives already, so you deserve your happily ever after.  You have to believe this is your game to win. You nudge her to turn around so you can spoon her and press your lips on her ear.

“You wish is my command, babe.”

**Monday, January 6, 2014,**

**00:09 am.,  Price house, Wilstätt, Germany**

You’ve been tossing and turning for eternity and nothing you tried so far helped to fall asleep. Lying on Victoria’s _side_ of the bed (yeah, you’ve already had sides), cuddling and sniffing her t-shirt, well your t-shirt she’s using as pyjama not even rubbing off thinking about your sexy girlfriend. It’s your first night without her and you are overwhelmed how agonising it feels. You thought Victoria will leave after New year’s eve to do whatever she’s supposed to do according to the mess that was created when she had left Monaco. But she didn’t. She planned to, though. She wanted to be gone before your parents‘ arrival from vacation. You resolutely dismissed it. As hard as it was to accept she’ll deal with the Duchess by herself you gave her the promise to stay out of it, eventually but you couldn’t let her disappear without saying hi to mum and dad. As your official girlfriend. You didn’t expect mum to take Victoria aside and it scared the shit out of you, to be honest. The conversation was long but after a lot of hugging and forehead kissing got involved you calmed. None of them was eager to reveal what they were talking about, so you had no choice but to drop it. At some point, Taylor with Steph showed up ready to pick up her BFF, but plans had changed already. Dad invited them to join the dinner and rearranged the dinner table so everyone could have a proper spot, including Trevor and Dana. Victoria barely released your hand the whole evening and didn’t speak much, but she was happy. It was palpable from every gesture she made, every smile she gave you, every little kiss you stole. Later that night when curled in your arms in your bed she even told you. She said these are the happiest moments of her life and hearing that made you realise you feel the same. Despite the fact she abandoned any effort to hide her soft side, despite she was still exhausted, her body weakened by the week without sleep, withdrawal symptoms and Duchess’ terror it was you who felt all exposed and vulnerable. You knew she had to leave eventually and your options how to be at least a little help in the fight against her twisted mother were limited. That’s why you decided to enjoy every moment with Victoria where it’s just two of you cherish what you have and be ready to do whatever it takes when the time will come, and she needs more from you than just simply love her. On January the second, the consecutive morning, Victoria’s phone rang and you reluctantly accepted the fact she’ll be gone soon. It was Mr. Driver who called. He was waiting outside, his intentions weren’t to take your love away, though. He brought her the bag with necessary stuff and took the rental car, giving Victoria back her silver Audi. When she was talking with him on the driveway, and you were stalking them through the window nervously, your phone chimed for a change.

Unknown number:

_I’m always watching over her, Miss Price. Never forget._

Somehow you knew, who sent the message. You were ready to say your goodbyes when Victoria entered the house, to your surprise she asked if you don’t mind her staying a bit longer glancing at your mum in the kitchen. Their secret pact was/is still one big mystery to you. Nevertheless, you didn’t say a word just squeezed her in happiness. You didn’t know if she’ll stay for an hour or day and didn’t care.

She dwelled five more days. And the longer she lingered, the more of true Victoria came to life, and you couldn’t help yourself but fell in love, again and again, each time you looked at her. The urge to control the way she looks, she acts, she speaks, all those insane patterns stuffed in her head because of her parents diminished slowly but surely every moment she spent with you and your family. From time to time you caught her tensing-up, feeling the urge to control herself trying to resurface. First, the soft touch of your hand or your mum’s helped her relax, but then she was able to, banish that urge by herself. Five whole days of mesmerising Victoria in shorts and your baggy shirts or tank tops, without makeup, without any effort for impeccability, still absolutely perfect in your eyes ended five hours ago. She gave you that look, and you knew instantly.  

_“Don’t worry, I guess the Duchess is seeking for a truce. Under her condition of course but I’m not helpless. And thanks to you, now I know I’m not useless either.”_

She said before you could vocalise any doubts or try to convince her to stay longer. So she packed her things, kissed you goodbye and took her leave. Well, kissed you goodbye is an enormous understatement. Because after she loaded her stuff into silver Audi trunk, she joined you on the porch again. And you stood there for almost an hour unable to separate, hugging, kissing, talking about nothing. And even when all of these memories should be enough for you to calm down, there is a lot of shits lurking in the shadows. What if the Duchess will ship Victoria to the boarding school in Switzerland? _Not going to happen, Victoria is an adult, she’s not going to be shipped anywhere it would be an abduction._ Or what if Victoria will crash with the reality of everyday life tomorrow and decide to end this “winter adventure” of yours when new semester will start.  She’ll see you only as a distraction colliding with her busy schedule, high-paced social life and world of power and prestige. _Stop it, Chloe, you’re not a fucking adventure for her, she is in love with you. There is no freaking storm coming._ Eventually, exhaustion pacifies all of the sneaky thoughts, and you fall asleep. If your restless half conscious seeking absent Victoria could be addressed as sleep. Sometime before the dawn, the unsuccessful effort to spoon her wakes you up fully. You groan when realise she didn’t go pee or grab a glass of the water and won’t be coming back to your embrace. You reach for the phone a decide there is no point in staying in bed anymore because it’s 5:40 am, but the decision what to do next seems a bit tricky. You yearn to call Victoria. She shared about many bits and pieces of her everyday life with you, so you know her morning routine and you know she’s already up. But that’s that. You don’t want to interfere with her stuff, you don’t want to be that crazy super obsessed girlfriend. Besides the winter break is over and so is the little bubble you lived in for five days. So you need to get your _Victoria_ addiction under control ASAP. When you were talking about solving _The Duchess_ issue on new year’s eve, you suggested something crazy, and she dismissed it gently but decisively. You knew the proposal to stay at your house was out of this world, but the thought was strangely appealing anyway. And when it kind of happened, anyway it overloaded your senses in the ways, you couldn’t even imagine before. Good ways. But it easily could be played another way. Maybe Victoria needs some space because being with you 24/7 overloaded her senses the exact opposite way. Maybe that was the reason why she was so cautious to stay in the first place.

“Just stop wallowing, Chloe!” You scold yourself. “The fact she doesn’t write you the first moment she opens her eyes in the morning doesn’t mean…”

The phone on the nightstand chimes and you cannot be happier hoping the message will cut the pity party.

Vic:

_Missed u and ur strong arms around my body._

It takes a lot of the effort, but you do not hit the call button, immediately. You just hug the phone as if it was your beloved girlfriend and grin like an idiot till you hear another chime.

Vic:

_Noticed? No emojis. I know those rise your heart rate.   Even when I’m full of emotions. But I hope you won’t mind me sending another thing that might affect your blood pressure. I hope it will make your day, once you wake up. Love u._

Another “thing” is her naked selfie from a shower, and it definitely affects every single cell in your body. You are eager to take a shower and make some naked selfies too but once in the bathroom it shows you’re no selfie maker, nor is your outdated phone. So you drop the effort and send only a text message.

Me:

_Miss u 2. In the shower, but I don’t suppose that’s the reason behind all that wetness spreading around. Wish you could join me. Love u._

She doesn't reply, so you actually do take a shower and put some jeans a black shirt on. Staying in your room would remind you of Victoria and leave you to thinking. Or more like overthinking. So you move to the kitchen, which surprisingly  (or not that much) also reminds you of Victoria. You fill the kettle and put it on the stove. It’s too early, no one is awake, yet. In the meantime, you prepare four coffee mugs and realise you’re an idiot. Only three people will have a coffee this morning. Mum, dad, and Trevor because Victoria is not here. To occupy your mind, you engage yourself in making the porridge. Even if you’re not particularly hungry, good porridge with slices of apple and cinnamon and honey and walnuts could boost your mood a bit.

“Well, well, well. I thought your early bird attitude will fly away once Victoria is gone, but my, my. It’s still there.”

Mum yawns and places a light kiss on your shoulder. You’re the well-known sleeper. If you can, you sleep all day, but the last couple of days changed it. How could you waste time sleeping when your dream girl was around?

“Mum, do you think I can do this?”

“It’s just a porridge, Chloe. Your cooking skills are much better than that. You’ll manage.”

“I-I didn’t ask about porridge. I’m a wanker, I pretty much suck at everything I do. Especially in social interactions. Well, maybe except football but it’s my second nature, I don’t even need to try that much. But Victoria, she’s-- She is--”

“Beautiful young woman, very much in love with you?”

“She’s way out of my league.”

“Interesting, because I know for sure, she feels the same way about you.”

“What? Nonsense.”

“She told me, you make her wanna do things she never did before. She wants to try harder, go further, do better when you are around. Do you feel the same about her?”

“Yes. Yes! Because she deserves so much. She was alone her whole, life. She fought through so many sh-- stuff. Everything she did, she achieved she achieved by herself. And me. What I’ve done? Almost drank myself to death, because I was pis-- mad with the cruel world.”

“Chloe, Chloe sweetheart maybe you should stir the pot.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. I am not even able to prepare some fuck-- freaking porridge. How I could be a proper girlfriend?”

“What your dad always says about difficult decisions and situations?”

“Just be the best person you can be. But mum, I am hardly a good person. Being best if you’re scum doesn’t do much. How it could be enough?”

“First of all, my daughter is not a scum and of course trying the best is and always will be enough. Listening to what others saying doesn’t do any damage either.” Says sleepy dad reaching for the cup of coffee.

“So can I have your famous porridge too, please?”

“Yeah, sure. If you like burnt oats.”

You tease but already feel the anxiety is fading.

“Go sit and enjoy your coffee. Both of you. For today I’m a designated breakfast maker.”

***

Dad drove you to school and to be true since you left the house you’re squirming like six years old school girl on her first day. You shouldn't. It’s just a school, place you don’t give a damn about. You hold on for a couple of hours and then you and Victoria could join your forces again and forget about the world around for a moment or two. No big. It cannot be that hard to be Chloe the social outcast, Miss-I-give-a-zero-shit-about-what’s-going-on-around for a freaking afternoon and don’t pay any attention to royal daughter. You are not fond of it, but you agreed to these terms and conditions in an effort to protect Victoria and keep the Duchess from knowing. You can do this. Or so you thought. All your resolutions go to shit when you spot your own personal goddess of beauty. White well-fitting pants and the carmine red cardigan is Victoria’s choice for today. It looks good on her. Everything looks good on her, but your eager exploring hands or tongue are always your preferred option instead of any clothes. You shudder. She didn’t notice you, chatting with some vortex girls. One of them laughs loudly and put her hand on Victoria’s shoulder. The thought of breaking every bone in the sneaky little limb crosses your mind, but you dismiss it. At least for now because Victoria excuses herself from the crowd of her fangirls and walking away from them. And from you. You tail her and quicken your pace.  She pulls her phone from the bag texting to someone. It slows her, which is in your favour and you catch with her the moment your phone in the pocket chimes. Your hands brush, and it seems totally accidental, but no coincidence made it happened.

“Hi, Vic.”

She blushes, very very lightly but you see. Her body and its reactions are becoming all too familiar to you. You can also see the goosebumps on her neck, which cause the tremor in your lower tummy.

“Hi, Chloe. I’m sorry, I wanted to text you earlier but--”

“It’s ok. You don’t have to explain. Can I walk you to the class?”

You swear you could kill for that smile she gives you. You’d sell your soul to the devil, you’d sacrifice innocent puppies to… Well, maybe not. Still, that smile is to die for.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Without thinking about consequences, about your doubts or fears, you remember Frankfurt and do what you always do. The first thing that comes to your mind. You reach for her hand and hold it affectionately but firmly. She looks at you. Her eyes are confused, conflicted.  Outing you in front of the whole school was your sole decision, and she had no real chance to affect it. Nevertheless, you feel confident about this step. It is the right thing to do.

“We can do this, Vic. I’ll protect you. I have no fear of your mother of anyone who dares to stand in our way. I love you, and I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her hand relaxes, and she entwines her fingers with yours. The gentle squeeze is the confirmation you were given the charge. You walk to class together hand in hand, and it feels the same as on your way from Frankfurt. You’ve never thought you could be into _the pathetic_ hands holding but being here doing it with Victoria you become a woman who wants for nothing again.

“Thank you for a walk, Chloe. I'll see you later.”

She gives you a peck on the cheek and _to die for_ smile and disappears in class. Everyone’s watching you, whispering, staring in awe. You are not aware of any of it. None of it matters after all. Only your happily ever after.

 


	28. The girl who still lives happily ever after

**Friday, January 17, 2014,**

**10:15 am., Wilstätt Academy, Wilstätt, Germany**

You have fifteen minutes till the next class will start. There are plenty of things you could be doing. Or should. But since you step down and are no longer school president silly school occurrences are none of your business, thank fuck. You also resigned as a queen bitch so being brutally honest _(plainly mean)_ and preparing lousy nobodies for the hardcore reality of real life doesn’t concern you either. Not anymore. What concern you is the girl you love. You know where she is and your body needs her, so you don’t have to think about seeking her. It leads you her way automatically. Chloe sits on the floor explaining something to the boys who play with a ball. Probably how they suck. You have to chuckle. Her ribs are doing good, and even when there is a winter break, which means no training, she was already cleared to do the light physical activity. But she decided to hold herself in check and instead of joining a football session she observes and bitch from afar. It makes you so happy. You bet she wanted to play with them so much, but instead, she chose to not be reckless and avoided the strain. When she spots you, she steps up and the time freezes. The earth stands still. For you. And for her. Yeah, it’s stupid. Perfectly idiotic. You are two idiots in love, and you don’t give a shit. When you with her you don’t care how it looks or what anyone thinks. The whole place could be set on fire, and you wouldn’t notice. You only see Chloe. Everything else is lost on you. You walk towards her and stop just millimetres from her face. She smiles. So does you.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Your noses almost brush.

“Do you wanna…”

“Do you wanna…”

You both go all shy and tender and sit down to her previous place on the ground. She reaches for your hand instinctively, and you lay your head on her shoulder. It feels fantastic. You close your eyes and relish Chloe’s closeness. You love her scent, and you love her touch. You love just to be next to her. She engages in talk with boys again, probably about some football stuff but you don’t pay attention. She doesn’t expect you will. And no one pays attention to you. It’s become so natural for you two, to be locked together in such a short time. Even when you considered this as most unwise. You were against coming out in public because you were afraid about so many ways how it could backfire on you. Duchess effort to separate you and Chloe or nasty headlines in Bild like _Lezzie royal daughter secret affair uncovered_. But so far there are no headlines, and your mother didn’t say a word about your relationship.

You bring her hand to your lips and kiss it gently.

“Why did you quit smoking?”

“Huh?” Maybe you intended to ponder about it internally, but you obviously said it loud.

“Nothing, love. Never mind.” You don’t want to interrupt her chatter, and you can talk about this another time. If ever.

“No, go ahead. You asked something about smoking.” She lifts up your chin and gives your nose a light peck. It’s almost hard to believe Chloe Price, the bad girl did something so cute and silly, but now you know better. She has this soft, most loyal heart. And you dare to believe it belongs to you.

“I just, you know… couldn’t sleep last night, so I browse every photo of you I made, and I still couldn’t sleep after because I missed you. So since you didn't deactivate your facebook, yet as I suggested I stalked it to the very past past...and…”

“You, Idiot. You should stay with me.” How dares she? From you two, you are entitled to call her Idiot when she does something stupid, not otherwise.

“I cannot stay at your house every night Chloe, what your parents would think about that?” She frowns and smacks your shoulder.

“Of course you can. They love to have you around. Almost as much as I do. Now tell me what you figure out on your sleepless night?”

She asks, so you talk. Even if it’s kind of creepy to admit what you were doing last night but at this point, you feel like you can tell her absolutely anything from your mind, from your past from the most obscure part of your soul and she will not judge. Not that you plan to. You wish too many memories could be lost like tears in the rain instead. But the feeling that you could tell her if you wanted is enough. So you talk about pics you found. They were around two years old. Some weird guy tagged her a lot. Chloe with a beer and cigarette on every single one with a sombre look. You admit there was something attractive about the dark version of her, but it was that kind of toxic attractiveness. You might vaguely remember that. You just came back from States consumed by your own darkness. Nevertheless, checking those pics, you wondered why she quitted. Because if she didn’t the beer and cigarettes would be what you would scent when snuggling into her instead of her own exhaustion, excitement or arousal. She says she mostly did that to piss her mum and dad because she blamed them for leaving Berlin and everything that mattered to her behind. But they weren’t pissed just sad and suffering. When she talks about how she got involved in the fight with some tugs on the concert and William saved her you squeeze her hand tighter. Shit. If it weren’t for him, she maybe wouldn’t be sitting next to you right now. You’d never feel what you are feeling recently. Pure happiness. What a great person and father he is. She admits she wanted to change after that incident. She didn’t want to piss her parents anymore. So she focused on the one thing she has ever been good at. Football. You wrap your arm around her waist and rest your forehead on hers.

“I’m glad you are not into that anymore. Kissing an ashtray wouldn't be as much pleasure. And It's enough to be worried if you got maimed on the playfield. So you can imagine I really welcome the version of you that doesn’t get involved in bar fights.”

“Really? I thought you’d like to do some mosh pitting with me.”

“Shut up, silly.” You put a hand on her mouth and she brawls you playfully. But like the first time in her room, she’s too light on you and ends pinned down to the floor. You wouldn’t think this is real, Victoria chase acting foolish, having fun enjoying yourself, if not for the feeling of Chloe's body pressed on yours, of her hot breath on your lips. That feeling makes you more lively and vigorous than you’ve ever been. The sudden closeness gives you an idea.

“What you think about skipping school? We can take a walk on the riverside, and you can tell me about your walk on the wild side.”

Yeah, it’s definitely hard to believe this is happening. Your royal highness, former school president, is convincing well-known rebel Chloe Price to slack off. She smirks, and you take her hand and help her to stand up.

“Deal.”

You head towards the exit all consumed by each other when you bump into someone you definitely rather avoid.

“I bet you are both so excited because you can’t wait to attend your next class not because you plan something shady.” Very funny, principal Kellerman you want to say but won’t.

One thing is for sure, he is a smart cookie. Nor you neither Chloe can hide the disappointment. You were indeed all fired to do _something shady_ and because his interference it’s very likely not going to happen.

“Come on girls, give me some life. World literature and Physics are terrific, besides you can do something shady after school when it’s none of my business.”

He knows you two too well and also most of the other students, you bet. He is nothing like your previous principal, alcoholic pawn Raymond Wells. This one would have no trouble to disobey the Duchess or Richard W. Chase. You have to admit Kellerman is pretty bearable for an adult and authority figure but still cannot make yourself excited about your usually favourite class quite the opposite actually. You are very close to saying something snarky. Chloe can sense it and gently squeeze your hand, so you keep it to yourself. She can be super badass, and she can be tender, and you love it so much, but it seems you have to wait to enjoy more of her. At least till the classes are over.

“Bye hun, can’t wait to see you later.”

You whisper to her ear because those words only belong to her and no one else. She doesn’t say anything only gives you a light peck on a cheek and a subtle smile. Your girlfriend just dared to kiss you in front of the principal and it makes you so happy you could burst. He doesn’t seem to mind. Not that like he already wasn’t aware what's going on. He must also know it was his and his wife’s intervention that brought you and Chloe together. That thought ceases your anger, and you’re about to leave with him to World Literature class and release Chloe’s hand.

“Maybe you could join us, Miss Price. I know for sure your physics knowledge is already beyond high school limits. I’ll settle it with Mr. Schrödinger if you decide to attend World Literature instead for this one time.”

“Well, in that case, Mr. Kellerman, lead the way.” Is principal shipping you, you wonder when following him to the class hand in hand.

Chloe has a special schedule combined with overall prolonged time at Wilstätt Academy due to her pro athlete status, her neglectful attitude during _take a_ _walk on the wild (dark) side_ phase and thanks to Kellerman’s benevolence. So this is actually her fifth year on high school. Her whole study plan is adjusted to SC Sand training schedule, which means she is only obliged to attend a limited amount of classes. For the time you have been back from New York, and she moved from Berlin you only had one class together, European history and it was last year. Damn, you definitely weren’t eager to sit together like you are now, constantly bickering about radically different views on selected historical events. You would not admit it back then even if your life depended on it, but you always looked forward to the clash of words with Chloe Price.

Usually, you really enjoy Kellerman’s classes. Both Kellerman’s. This one, World literature is entirely optional, and as a principal, Arthur Kellerman shouldn’t even be teaching any more, but he makes an exception. It’s pretty popular for something that’s not mandatory, which is not a surprise at all because it’s nothing like any other classes, it’s more like an adventure. Unfortunately for your teacher, the only adventure you’re interested in is right next to you.

“Time travel.”

Says Mr., Kellerman and you sigh because the designated topic is such a waste and does not help to stay focused at all. The class exists somewhere in the background of your consciousness when your senses main priority lean closer.

“If I knew you talk about cool things like time travelling in World literature class, maybe I’d join more often.”

Chloe’s lips are too close to your ear sending chills down your spine. You turn, and your lips are almost touching hers.

“Of course, from all of the beauty literature can offer to this world you’d enjoy something so naughty as meddling with time.”

She shivers, you can tell and you know you should not be doing this, yet you can’t help yourself and stare at her with greed. If you could turn back time, you avoided principal and were doing this someplace more private, unfortunately…

“Do you agree Miss, Chase?”

You can’t control the time, but through years with the Duchess, you learnt how to split your mind, be present and don’t at the same time. To react appropriately to any question asked without leaving your dreamworld somewhere over the rainbow.

“I can’t say I do.”

You reluctantly pull your body from Chloe’s proximity and turn to the questioner.

“Actually, Mr. Kellerman I would say I can’t disagree more with that statement. H.G. Wells novel Time machine is absolutely not the first significant piece about time travelling. In my humble opinion…”

Chloe smirks because you never consider your opinion humble.

“...or in my not so humble opinion, I don’t even think the book is focused on time travelling. It’s just unnecessarily plot-device.”

“Well, what an unorthodox approach to the novel where the term _time machine_ was used for the first time ever. Maybe you could elaborate.”

What a traitor! He knew you’ll bring _unorthodox approach_ , that will lead to heated discussion still under his thoughtful guide that will result in everyone’s involvement so every wanker in here is going to think their opinion matters and that was precisely Kellerman’s goal. On the other hand, if this happens and everyone around indulges in their own self-importance you can freely stare at Chloe’s lips, breast perhaps. So you accept the bait and continue.

“I will not dispute that novel popularised the concept of time travel even when it has little to do with time travelling itself. H.G. Wells addressed the degradation of human species without any relatable connection the utmost essence of interfering with time flow, though.”

“And what that might be?”

“Consequences, Mr. Kellerman.”

_“You love this, don’t you? Listening to your fancy speeches.”_

Chloe whispers and makes you think the way you act appeals to her as well.

“The whole work is just a dull observation. It’s like buying a bag from Dior, putting it on the shelf at home and staring at it. What’s the freaking point? If you use such a significant substance of reality why waste its potential so much? That bag has to show off for God sake. You have to take it out with you, take a walk on the wild side and watch all those bitches around burn with rage.”

“If you’ll watch the language, Victoria I allow you to reveal why Wells approach doesn’t suit your artistic needs and who used this significant substance of reality better and take the bag from Dior to the walk on the wild side.”

“Charles Dickens. Christmas Carol,” you feel Chloe’s hand on your knee and stutter, “...w-would be my answer if I actually believed such an obnoxious concept like time travelling enriched art of literature.”

When the hand reaches the hem of your skirt, you realise she’s doing it on purpose. She wants to know how you handle this in the room full of people staring at you. You’ll make her pay later, now you only smirk and try to gain composure.

“So my final thought about this topic is there is no such thing as time travelling or alternative timelines, Mr. Kellerman. Therefore the concept doesn’t bring anything revolutionary to the world of literature nor to humanity itself. It’s vain and pointless. People made it up in a false hope they could fix their own failures or to indulge themselves in any action without thinking about consequences. Alas, there are always consequences. Some things cannot be fixed. We just have to find a way how to learn from our mistakes and live with it. H.G.Wells was misguided socialist, slightly optimistic in the beginning, sadly for him, in the end, he realised many are not ready to learn anything and considered a thought that humanity should be replaced by other species.”

Are you talking about H.G. Wells or about your own failures? You’re not sure, anymore. It sounds dark in your head, and you bet superior to everyone else. Maybe in the meantime you did your quick time travel to all those Christmas Eve's when you wished _Ghost of Christmas yet to come_ from Dickens novel visited the Duchess and Richard W. Chase as well and they saw the consequences of their actions. Or to the future where you’ll become exactly like them. Alone, abandoned, antagonised in your stupid so-called _perfect_ life. You sneer and hope your reputation will help to hide this moment of weakness, and the arrogant bitch is what others see. Except for Kellerman. As you said, he is a smart cookie. But he’s not the only one. Chloe’s hand does not lay on your thigh anymore just limping next to her body nervously. When your teacher starts what he wanted, the passionate discussion, you two are left alone. You bet Chloe has no idea what just happened but only the feeling she knows something did is enough. You give her a quick nod, an approval and she reaches for your hand caresses it gently.

“I’m here if you want to talk about anything.” She whispers.

You don’t.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” Pity is the last thing you need. Sympathy is the last thing you deserve. You fake the smile and focus on the images of Chase family Christmas, gone. Your future corrupted self, gone. You focus on your linked hands and go back in time to new years eve. Pancakes, shitty tv specials, you falling asleep in Chloe’s arms. Yes. Yes! That’s what you need. No talking. Feeling Chloe right next to you.

“Baby, are you there?”

“Huh?”

You realise she is speaking again. You must zone out because the class is emptying now.

“The class is over, we can take a walk on the riverside if you still want.”

“Sure, my love.”

You hope your soft expression is adequate compensation for zone out period. It is a relief when she cheers and drags you to the hall where you bump into Steph. She needs some chemistry notes or whatever hence you let them solve this pressing issue and decide to take care of your own.

“Principal Wells!”

You shout, and he turns around, staring at you quizzically.

“You mean Kellerman, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You said, principal Wells.”

“I-I’m sorry. My former principal in New York was called Wells.”

“That’s why you are not fond of H.G. Wells work?”

“I definitely cannot count it off. Anyway. I just wanted to thank you.”

Suddenly he’s even more surprised.

“For what?”

“For you know, pretty much everything. Have a nice day, Mr. Kellerman.”

You mutter nervously and are ready to leave. Thank you are not the words Chases have in their dictionary but the whole time travelling nonsense scrambled your brain and made you realise if it wouldn’t for him...

“Victoria...”

He carries this very fatherly expression. You never saw Richard W. Chase having this look, but recently you’re quite familiar with it. It’s how William looks at Chloe when she’s stuck in her overcharging mind.

“I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”

You have to grin. “Did you compare notes or what?”

“Notes?”

“Nevermind. Thanks to you I finally have someone to talk to if it’d pleased me, so your offer is kind, but I will politely refuse.”

“Your father called this morning.”

Your stomach clenches up in knots. Realities and timelines clash in your brain once more, and you hear Wells’ voice instead of Kellerman’s.

“Did he? Did I forget to tell him about additional tuition fees?.”

“No, because this is a public school, so no one pays tuition here.”

“Oh, right.”

“Are you ok, Victoria?”

You raise your head and see a severe concern in Kellerman’s eyes. _What the hell, Victoria?_ _It’s Arthur Kellerman, not Raymond Wells. You’re not in New York_.

“I’m fine. So what did he want? Richard W. Chase? I mean, my father.”

“He said I should not allow your mother to interfere with your school affairs and that he deliver legal documents to underline this statement soon enough. He also asked under what conditions you can transfer immediately to another high school outside Germany. Technically, you are an adult so none of your parents is supposed to interfere with any of your affairs and I am sure you know this but…”

“Transfer. Splendid.” Crazy titter escapes your mouth. “Don’t worry, none of them will show. As you said, this is a public school it’s beyond them.”

“I’m not worried about them Victoria, I’m worried about you.”

“You gain nothing if you care and you are going to lose nothing if you won’t. So why you bother?”

“There is always something to gain when people care. Thanks to you, this school has the best young photographer winner for the first time ever. Your schoolmates still can learn a lot from you. And that’s not the only reason why I care. Why we care here.”

“Nice try Mr. Kellerman, trying to appeal to my self-esteem but to be precise, It’s thanks to your wife and Chloe.”

“Give yourself some credit. You took those picture, after all. So the transfer. Is it definite, then?”

“What transfer? What’s going on?”

Yeah of course from every possible occurrence that could happen right now is Chloe overhearing something that doesn’t make sense even to you. There is no way you’re having this conversation with the principal around. He might be an outstanding teacher and showed a lot of patience and understanding towards you and Chloe, but this doesn’t concern him. You hope your intense stare giving the right message.

“I’ll take my leave but no pepper spraying, no bloodshed, no screaming in my school. Understood?.”

“Understood.”

You assure him and point Chloe to the exit. She obtained her navy coat in the meantime, but you see her visibly shaking, anyway.

“So were are going to pretend everything is so fine, aren’t we?” She spats and grits her teeth when holding the exit door opened for you.

“It is. There is nothing to talk about. Nothing’s going on. There is no transfer. Period. Just a nice walk to the riverside ahead of us.”

“You don’t trust me.”

She stops in the middle of the parking place, her eyes clouded by rage. Her statement is not a question, nor it is putting the blame on you. It’s an expression of failure. She’s fuming. Sad. Disappointed. So are you.

“It’s not about trust, Chloe. Don’t you get it?” It takes everything in you to not shout.

“I want you out of it. I’m terrified you’ll shun me, once you see all of those shits surrounding me. I can’t stand the thought you’ll leave me because you’ll get fed up with how everything around me is so complicated so that’s why I am trying so hard to cut this part of my life from our relationship so we can still live happily ever after.”

“How does it help when you keep things from me? How?!”

She doesn’t understand, and you can’t explain, and the frustration in you boils.

“I won’t abandon you, Vic,” She pleads, “never. I don’t care what’s in your past, how your family doesn’t approve, I won’t leave you. So please don’t try to control everything, have faith in me that I can handle it.”

“I do have faith in you, I gave you so much control can’t you see? I let you out us, even if it was such a dangerous move. It still could cause so much damage. I let myself be all vulnerable and exposed around you. What I feel for you go further every day, beyond limits. Love and adoration are becoming dependence. We are basically u-hauling. Everything I wanted to avoid, every scenario that could destroy us is happening because I let your vehemence overthrown my rationality.”

“Are you mad, then? Are you saying I forced you into something you didn’t want?”

“No, Choe, for fuck sake.” Now you shout. “You didn’t force me. I made those decisions, I let it happen. So how can you say I don’t trust you!?”

“Because you never talk about issues that bothering you the most.”

Her arms sink. She’s raging, oh she is. And hurting.

Well, fuck. It’s already happening. For the crown she’s placed upon your head feels too heavy now. You don’t want to fight but fuck it’s you and Chloe involved, after all. None of you will hold back once this argument evolves. You want to get her, to understand what more she wants from you but you can’t. Why she has to be like this? You walk towards the silver Audi, squeezing your eyelids tightly feeling bile rising quickly in your throat. You gulp. Tremendous pressure on your forehead and throbbing behind the bridge of your nose doesn’t help either. Fuck. You can’t be near her.

“Don’t do this. Vic, don’t walk away, again!”

Instinctively you grab the first door handle in your reach, get in and push the lock button on the car keys. You definitely cannot drive sitting in the back seat, but you left Chloe outside, which was the point. She tries to open the door but slams the tinted window after realising it’s vain attempt, and the car is an impenetrable fortress. It should peak your attention that your windows weren’t tinted before Christmas but fuck _. Why things always have to be so complicated? How long you were allowed to be happy. A couple of days?_ You rummage the Dior bag looking for some Xanax, antacids, booze anything that could suppress an incoming breakdown. It’s useless and ridiculous because you know you won’t find any fix in there. Not anymore. It seems even more crazy when it’s obvious the most efficient tranquilliser stands outside. After a couple of deep breaths, you hit the call button on your phone. Richard W. Chase picks almost immediately.

“Why did you call Kellerman? Why did you ask him about the transfer?”

“In case you’d decide to leave Strasbourg, Vicky.”

“Why would I decide to do that?”

“Variety of reasons. For example, because your girlfriend was offered a contract with another club.”

“There is no for examples in your world. You’re punctual, cold-hearted, brutal realist. Whatever is your agenda leave Chloe alone, leave us alone. I beg you. We don’t need your intervention. She’s good enough to be picked by her dream club.”

Chloe would never forgive you if your father used his influence and arrange signing the contract with one of the top clubs. Such effort to control you is wrong on so many levels. And you doubt it was the whole truth. There is more to it.

“I just wanted--”

You don’t give a shit what he wanted and push the end call button. There is a message sign on the screen.

Chloe:

_I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me Victoria Chase._

You look out, and she’s sitting on the cold ground her back leaning to the car.

* * *

 

**Friday, January 17, 2014,**

**12:35 am., Wilstätt Academy Parking lot, Wilstätt, Germany**

The lock clicks. You may also imagine it, but still, your body reacts immediately, and you jump on your feet. You pull the handle carefully, and the door stuck before, yield under your touch. Victoria sits at the farthest possible spot of the back seat not looking at you but out of the window on the other side. She’s pale, unattached and powerfully attractive. For thousand time you’re struck by her beauty. Which certainly helps to cease the resentment. You hop in but don’t dare to get closer. Your anger is fading, and your mind is clearing, but it’s a process unfinished.  At least not yet. You shouldn’t yell, but you’re not going to apologise. No doubt, neither will she. You can fight fiercely, and it can result into scorched earth. What’s more peculiar, as your usually oblivious brain didn’t fail to observe, is that these intense outbursts of emotions always move your relationship to another level sooner or later. Sooner in case Victoria doesn’t bail on you and flee the battlefield or your _vehemence_ as she addressed it, doesn’t go all ill-use. That’s why you were dreaded when she entered the car and fucking delighted when the engine remained silent. _So come on Chloe, think!_ If you continue the discussion, she’ll shut down, and your wrath will overcome you. No entrance to her heavily guarded castle granted, she may even _flee the battlefield._ Something happened in World Literature class, something you maybe could figure out if you ever read Christmas Carol. Unfortunately, you’re not much of the reader. It’s Victoria’s virtue. Only one book has caught your attention recently, and it was because you believed it’ll help to understand her. It did, but you don’t have that luxury now, no time for reading Christmas Carol. This _misunderstanding_ needs to be solved ASAP, or else your mind starts to overcharge till it blows. You don’t trust your mouth, though. If you speak you’ll hold your line because you damn believe the point you made is justified and right. So does Victoria. No one will budge. However, there is one thing you can do. It always works regardless she uses it on you or otherwise because you’re magnetically drawn to each other. Nothing can suppress your longing for physical contact. She knows that too, so you expect a mild resistance until she succumbs. You move closer. She was tensed before but your proximity straines all of her muscles to the maximum. You encountered this version of her before. Conflicted. She’s holding two contradictory ideas absolutely inconsistent with each other. You hope the one is not telling you anything in false believe she’s protecting your relationship and the other is to share. You need to convince yourself there is not a decision between being with you and not being with you. Your arm slides around her waist under the satin blouse, and you’d swear the bolt of electricity surges from the place her skin comes to contact with yours. She puts the palm on your chest defensively and intends to push you away but leans in instead. The dissonance at it’s best.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t--”

Your other hand buries in her hair as your lips find the sweet spot on the side of her neck.

“Why you never listen?”

She’s barely able to catch a breath. The tension is easing.

“ I guess, that’s who I am.” You keep spilling the kisses as she squeezes your shirt. “If I did listen, you’d never fell in love with me.” Till you reach the heat of her lips. “Don’t you think?” But don’t wait for the answer.

As much as you intended to keep it slow and tender it all goes to shit in no time as usual. Once you feel her taste in your mouth, your body screams for more. You pull her right into you, and both fall down on the seat. For once you’re glad for her indulgence in classy, expensive things because hell there is so much space in the back seat of Audi A5 Sportback. Maybe it’s an awareness of how close is the possibility of losing her all the time, maybe it’s her otherworldly attractiveness, but you want to devour her. Every little piece of her body has to be yours. Before you can strip down her blouse, she breaks the kiss and removes your hands from her torso gently. The message behind her look is crystal clear. _Wait._ It takes everything in you, but you do not pursue the connection again. Trying to steady your heartbeat and tame your greed you close your eyes. After the moment you feel her lips pressed softly against your cheek and then her head lays on your chest.

“If seeing our sex tape on the internet tomorrow is not what you desire, we should probably stop.”

You chuckle and welcome the relief brought by the tone of her voice. “You know you have tinted windows? Even the front one, which I am pretty sure is illegal. And I’m genuinely surprised I didn’t notice before. Maybe because you always tried to lure me in not keep me away.”

She’s calm, amused a bit, actually. The plan worked, the only flaw is you’re not going to fuck in the back seat of her car. You put your arms around her tightly and prompt her to nestle deeper into your embrace. She whimpers and murmurs something like _God, I could’ve lived in the crook of your neck._ It’s another addition to the solace you desperately needed. She’s about to give you more, though. Not more solace, more of what you thought you seeked for.

“I heard about the transfer two minutes before you did, by the way. Ruthless CEO called Kellerman and asked inappropriate questions.”

She says right into your ear and gently run her fingers across your face when feels your heartbeat quickens.

“No transfer. Not happening, I told you. You definitely should listen to me, my love. At least every little now and then.”

“I’ll try to be a better listener, you’ll try to be a better talker. What about that, babe?”

You suggest but not in the world you expect she is going to start fulfilling the deal right away.

“Something’s terribly wrong, and I can’t hide from it anymore. I don’t trust him, I never did, but he’s acting peculiar recently. Richard W. Chase always ignored me and now. It’s all Victoria all the time. I have no idea what he’s up to. You can’t imagine how powerful he is. He can bribe any club in Europe to buy you or to not buy you, and you wouldn’t even know it was his doing. He can separate us in 30 seconds if he decides to.”

And that’s exactly what happens Chloe when you’re not careful what you wish for, you think. Shitstorm.

“And the Duchess. I expected her to be furious about us. There is no way she doesn’t know by this point. And she does nothing. She just leaves me be. Nothing makes sense. It all seems like the calm before the storm. Before the hurricane, before the fucking typhoon.”

She pulls away, and her movements suggest she’s about to climb to the front seat. You panic for a minute and freeze after sparks fly through you when the view of her perfect butt is revealed. Then you realise she only wanted to reach for the central console and set up the heater.

“And I bet sooner or later there will be nasty articles about us in tabloids, and…” She sits back next to you, and you are damn sure you have to stop this line of thoughts. One of your arms encircle her, the other clumsily shakes of your navy coat.

“Shhhh…” You replace the arms, and after it’s completely taken off, take the coat and wrap it around her. “We’ll deal with it when it’ll happen. We’ll deal with it together. Ok?”

It would be tougher than you thought, Fuck you Richard W. Chase and Fuck you the Duchess, I love you daughter, and you can Fuck off, won’t be as effective as you thought but your strengths combined, your vehemence and her rationality mingling together could become a superpower, an unstoppable force.

“Because together we are indestructible.”

“Yeah, I know. I can feel it, every second you’re with me, Chloe.”

She lays on your lap, and you cannot help but smile. It felt a bit heavy for a moment, but you both feel the same, and that’s important. You might not be there yet, but you’re closer than yesterday. Three months ago you despised each other, and now you feel nothing but devotion and admiration. Hell, maybe you’ll never stop clashing because you’re both too strong-willed but you definitely learning how to get each other. You start to play with her hair when it hits you hard. This is what you fucking wanted and missed the whole time. This is why you were so broken when you left Berlin when Max cut you off. This is why Coach made you a captain, why Kellerman paired you with her. You need someone to watch over, to take care of. To be complete, you need someone who needs you. Wouldn’t it be so fucking great if it were her, you wonder.

“Ask me anything.” She says out of the blue after a long comfortable silence.

“Huh?”

“You said I’m keeping things from you so now you have this rare opportunity to ask me anything. Ask then. I have no idea what you desire to hear, so give me some specifics.”

“I will not ask. Urgh…” That’s exactly what you were pondering about before. It’s good to know she wants to appease you but it doesn’t work like this. “I want you to feel comfortable to tell me anything, I do not desire to force you or to make you feel obliged to do so.” You sound frustrated.

“Listen, Chloe, listen!” So does she.

She sits up stares and at you intently. “Being with you is one of the few things I want out of life. I want it more every day. So I do feel comfortable to tell you anything.”

“Why are you no doing so, then?”

“Because there are some things I don’t want to talk about. Ever. I wish they never existed. Reliving some memories unhinges me. You know there is a part of me tainted by darkness. As much as I wish it wouldn’t be so, it is. I guess it’s in our royal blood.”

“You make it sound like you killed someone.” You jest.

Of course, she’s not Mother Theresa, she’s not a champion of the just and never will be. You adore her, but you’re no fool. She loves with her whole heart when she does, but those she doesn’t love are just mobs to her. Kind of. Disposable crowd. To her defence, she ignores this crowd and spares them from the cruelty now when she doesn’t feel obliged to do so as the Duchess taught her.

“What if I did?” Still, her words definitely surprise you.

“No, you didn’t.” You refuse to be persuaded otherwise.

She sighs and moves away from you a bit, and it’s hard to decide what to think of it. Then she starts with a neutral tone. The story is about the time she spent with her family in Japan. And about the young Japanese girl, member of the royal family. The girl, who didn’t fit to her role and was scolded for the lack of manners and proper approach regularly, by her family, by the Duchess, and occasionally also from twelve years old perfect example of modern nobility, Victoria, the Countess of Liechtenstein. Because it was expected of her. The story itself is abridged and the ending sort of anticlimactic. Victoria was told to go find the young princess in her chambers when she was late for the social evening but what she found was hanged body.

“I sat on the floor for ages and stare at her shoes and thought about how they totally didn’t fit with her dress. Then the Duchess showed and covered my eyes with her palm.”

 _“This happens when you’re weak Victoria”_ “She said.”

 _“Don’t be weak. Never. Don’t you dare. Are we clear?_ I nod completely unaware of what was happening and let her take me out.”

You keep replaying the sentence about the shoes in your head and hear the sound of self-loathing louder every consecutive time.

“This is how your nightmares started? You dream of her?”

Victoria still doesn’t look at you but down at her shoes.

“Yes, but those are not about her. It’s me and the rope. It’s me who’s dying in them. Suffocating. Her I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything but the shoes.”

You consider to reach for her hand but sit idly.

“I used to envy her, you know. She found an easy way out.”

For the first time since the story of the Japanese princess has begun she looks you in the eyes. She doesn’t seek redemption. She doesn’t yearn to make herself look better. She’s not apologising. She only wants you to understand.

“I barely knew she existed. I did what the social rules ordered me. It’s no excuse for being heinous, but still... I have no real quarrel with her. I dare to claim I didn’t care about her at all. Still, If I did something differently, she could live. Even when I have no real intention to hurt her, my approach is very much equal to putting a knot around her neck. ”

“It’s not!” Suddenly, you’re sure of that.  You will not try to justify Victoria’s poor judgement and crappy behaviour, but she is not responsible for the princess’ dead. “Your approach wasn’t exactly heroic, but the choice was her own.”

“Exactly. She made her choice, and I did mine. Both of our decisions have consequences. Only one of us have to live with it.”

The weariness lays on you both. You finally dare to reach for her hand. It’s ice-cold.

“Vic, did you want to kill yourself?” You ask hesitantly, but Victoria only stares at her shoes again without any intention to answer.

“You shouldn’t be afraid to tell me. I won’t judge you. Especially not because you did something questionable when you were 12.”

“I know you won’t. You know who I am Chloe, you know this twisted part of me exists. It’s still there, it always will be. You knew and stuck around regardless. You understand how it is because you understand darkness, too well.”

“I do.”

As you say it, she squeezes your hand tighter. _Did you want to kill yourself? Was your effort to sabotage yourself supposed to lead to death? To hurt those who cared about you because you thought they were responsible for your pain?_

“See? But what’s better to be born good or overcome your evil nature through great effort?”

There is a little life, glimpse of joy behind her eyes again.

“Did you just quoted--”

“I did. Problem?”

“No. Not at all. I just wouldn’t expect… Nevermind. So if you knew I’ll understand, why you wanted to keep it from me?”

“As I said, some memories, some cognitions unhinge me. I need them under the lock. With you, I have this new life I never dared to hope for.”

“It should be a good thing, shouldn’t it? Yet, you don’t sound exhilarated.”

“It always will be something Chloe, some shit going on, some consequences. My past, my future, my family. Not because I was born evil but because I was born royal daughter. Because I am Victoria Chase. And what if one day you’ll wake up and decide it’s too much shit to handle and you wave me _Ciao Adios I’m Done.”_

“I won’t.”

“So you didn’t go full mental about something you’ve overheard? Something that wasn’t true at all but you decided I’m planning to transfer, that I would do that to you, anyway because someone said so.”

“No, Yes, well, not exactly. I-I...”

“Being my girlfriend won’t be easy. There always will be my family trying to intervene with my affairs. Sooner or later some bored paparazzi will show up, and our pictures will be in every German tabloid. Maybe your pictures reminding your past slips. That’s why I wanted to keep a low profile, that’s why I wanted you to deactivate your facebook, that’s why I want to keep you out if it. Not because I don’t trust you or  I’m ashamed of you or need to be in control.”

“Idiot. I’m an idiot. Caring and loving idiot but still an idiot.”

You mutter and hit the front seat in frustration.

“Hey, hey, easy, love.” She recaptures your hand and kisses its knuckles.

“It doesn’t suppose to be an accusation. I’m failing myself. God help me, but lots of the times I’m enjoying your vehemence I love how you don’t yield, how you break the stupid patterns in my head. And most of all I can’t take my hands of you, my eyes, my mind. When you’re not around my head is about to explode considering what could happen but when you’re with me, I’m calm because I know it’s going to be alright.”

She smiles. Finally. She cups your face and presses your lips together. You feel the thrill. Hers. And yours.

“The first day at school, you proudly hold my hand and said we can do this. I want to believe we can Chloe, but I need you to do something. Listen to what I say and try to see the reason behind it. Usually, your instincts are right but sometimes they betray you, and you’re going down through the endless self-destruction hole. Your darkness is different than mine but equally powerful.”

You nod. You would keep nodding till midnight maybe if she didn’t stop you with another kiss. Oh my, what a whirlwind of emotion. It’s wonderful to be in love with someone who loves you back, but you’d be damned if you keep thinking such unique bond will take care of itself. You put Victoria’s hand on your chest and take a deep breath.

“I promise, Vic. I promise I’ll listen to you, I’ll trust your word, and I won’t leave you. This I swear.”

She seems solemn for a split second, but then corners of her mouth turn up.

“Well, it settles then. Now take me home. I’m exhausted. Lack of your presence robbed me of my sleep yesterday. I can’t wait to be in our bed, again.”

She said, _home_ and didn’t mean Chase manor. Also, the mention of _OUR bed_ makes your heart jump. Happy Chloe is teasing Chloe, though.

“Hey, you really don’t expect me to drive this piece of crap.”

“Oh, I remember you were enjoying _this piece of crap_ greatly when lying in the back seat trying to woo me.”

“Fine, Fine, you won. I’ll drive. And I listen. See?”

She hands you the keys and runs her hand up to your arms.

“I love you, Chloe. I love you more than anything.” You think the searing kiss will follow when she’s about to lean in, but dodge, open the door and push you out.

“Now go. Go and drive your wifey home.”

You laugh when entering the driver seat.

“My wifey, huh?”

“Yeah, a real lady, sexy in every way possible. Sexy when she smiles even when she’s mad at you. Just your wifey, you know.”

So you do as _your wifey_ said and bring you home. She dismisses your suggestion to eat _cause she’s not hungry_ and takes a shower instead. In the meantime, you make her the caesar salad anyway. For someone _who’s not hungry,_ she enjoys it greatly, and you can’t be happier. Or maybe you can.

“Come here, Jamie Olivier.”

“Don’t call me--”

She pulls you into her lap and silence you with the kiss.

“Let’s take a selfie.”

Her hair is still damp from the shower, and she wears your old jersey, that is too big on her and looks utterly adorable. To you. But this doesn’t seem like material for a selfie. Nevertheless, you place a jolly peck on her cheek, and she does what she can’t do the best. Or second best. The best thing she can do is definitely using her tongue. The photos are beautiful. If you’d desire to be all mushy and sentimental, you said super cute.

“Would you mind if I post it on Instagram?”

“You want to post our kiss selfie? You have thousands of followers. Didn’t you just say… I mean…”

“I know what I said, but it’ll come sooner or later. When I post it now, it will be our decision, not some paparazzi.”

“You really want to post my picture on your wall?” You’re pretty sure you blush like a crazy.

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll be honoured then.”

So she does. From this moment there is a picture on her wall, picture that everyone can see, with her little note. **#Meandmylove.**

 ******  
**


	29. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tut, tut, child!’ said the Duchess. ‘Everything’s got a moral if only you can find it.’“
> 
> /Lewis Carroll, Alice Adventures in Wonderland/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, maybe I owe you a little explanation after all if you‘re interested. If not just skip right to the story ;-)
> 
> You may notice that after six months of regular weekly updates, new chapters come less often. Let‘s just say my well-payed office job is not as exciting and entertaining as I would like. I‘ve always been into sports and time spent in the gym or on the playfield was what kept me going in the office. And after the breakup, I started to work out even harder and become as some say shredded or ripped :) People noticed of course and plenty asked me for advice how to do that, how to lose weight, how to gain some nice muscles and such. And I was also lucky to meet... How to say it? Sometimes the person just touches you. And I‘ve met two such persons, my current trainer and another fitness freak. And these two helped me realise, there is never too late to break old patterns. To do something new, something you knew you‘ll love but never dared to try. So now I‘m working on my personal trainer license. It‘s kind of exhausting and time consuming because I still have to go to work in the office to pay bills, to pay for personal trainer classes and I have to attend these classes, and of course I need to work out too because I want to stay hot and ripped :). So it‘s not easy, but it makes me super happy. If everything goes well, I will be a certified personal trainer in December. And I hope one day I‘ll drop the office job for good and hello gym :) So under all these circumstances I decided to change the ending of my story and rewrite the last part. Which is also time-consuming, and unfortunately, I am unable to spare much, right now. But I love this piece eternally, and if you knew me, you‘d be aware I am not a quitter, so don‘t worry. I will not drop it.
> 
> Aaaaaaand some special offer. Since you‘ve made it this far, you‘ve come all this way with Chloe and Victoria, and you‘re still reading you‘re welcome to ask me any health and fitness related stuff, and I will give you my professional (from December) advice for free, indefinitely ;-)

**Friday, June 13, 1984,**

**4:42 pm., House of Liechtenstein summer residence, Zürich, Switzerland**

“Where have you been, son?”

The young boy didn’t expect to encounter his father at this hours. Friday afternoon was the only day in the week when he could sneak out without the fear of being caught and play football with lads. It was what kept him going. The only light in the place so dark and empty he had to call home.

“I asked you a question.”

Grand Duke wasn’t the person whose request should be opposed. Yet, giving an honest answer didn’t seem like an advisable move. So the boy stood still doing the exact thing his father despised the most. Resisted. Adrenaline still rushing through his veins after a great game, endorphins level too high caused by joyful time with friends and the anger that was tamed for too long. Those were the factors behind his resolution. Richard stared intently into his father’s eyes and knew the time was up.

“On the playfield. Playing football with lads.”

“I believe we discussed such inferior activities and you understood why--”

“There was no discussion. You talked, and I listened. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t--”

The heavy hand met Richard’s face with an intensity of unstoppable force. It was no chance for him to withstand it. He ended on the floor, his mouth was filling with thick liquid, and his head spun. He tried to pull up, immediately and retreat but it was too late for that. The same hand that maimed his face clenched his arm and lift him up ferociously.

“Did I give you the permission to speak?”

Richard knew he was defeated. His uprising couldn’t even start, and it was savagely suppressed.

“No.”

The blood kept spilling tasting revolting, feeding his utter humiliation.

“So I believe we are clear now, when you should speak and when you should not. Same with the rest of my proposals as the best course of action.”

Young boy nodded which resulted in the release of the steadfast grip. The sound of the footsteps got quieter and quieter till it died completely. It died, and so many other things were taken along. It didn’t take long, and controlled sobs became deranged. Richard found himself unable to do anything else than lying on the floor choking on his own tears mixed with phlegm and blood.

* * *

 

**Saturday, April 23, 1995,**

**11:21 am., Cathedral of St. Florin, Vaduz, Liechtenstein**

“And you Richard Willhelm II., Duke of Liechtenstein will you take…”

There was no point to feel sorry about himself, young noble knew that. There was no other path than to obey Grand Duke’s will. His existence was stripped to mere slavery.

“...Princess of Hohenzollern, for your lawful wedded wife according to the rite of our Holy Mother, the Catholic Church?”

He felt numb.

“I will.”

The very moment the words died in the hugeness of the cathedral, Richard knew the last part of humanity in him ceased to exist. The life he dreamt of with a woman he loved will never happen. She dismissed his last attempt to reconcile earlier, and now, the other woman and child she bore will always be confined to him.

Three weeks after the wedding, Grand Duke of Liechtenstein, Richard’s father died of the stroke. _Ludicrous._ The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. His worst chains were finally broken, but there were others he couldn’t just tear down. Not after it was announced, he and the Duchess expecting their first baby. The baby he hated more than he hated her.

No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he was never free again. But it wasn’t commanding and imperious father who controlled him any longer. It was his very own effort to do things differently. Adapt the monarchy to contemporary needs and habits, was the easiest task as it seemed. Unfortunately, the young boy who loved football and dared to dream about true love couldn’t be revived, anymore. So instead of becoming the ruthless Grand Duke, he became the ruthless CEO.

* * *

 

**Sunday, August 14, 2005,**

**12:01 am., Chase Enterprises, Zürich, Switzerland**

“Mr. Madsen, this job has no room for missteps. Alas, there is one last trial to prove you’re qualified.”

Richard W. Chase, as he was recognised now, founder and CEO of the largest family-owned private wealth and asset management financial group, exited the lift and pointed to the far side of the underground parking lot. The new potential employee stepped out resolutely, but he didn’t try to hide the surprise from the unexpected conclusion. He had applied for a guard and securicar driver in one of the security companies Chase Enterprises hiring for money transports. Meeting one of the most powerful man wide and high hadn’t been on his list _how to prepare for a personal interview,_ two weeks ago nor was residing to Switzerland, when entered this building for the first time. It wasn’t revealed till much much later, that Richard W. Chase handpicked the Iraq war veteran and considered his every skill very thoroughly.

“You drive me to my residence and meet my daughter. If everything goes well, you’ll become her personal driver and will be responsible for her safety.”

It didn’t take long till the car hit the driveway of the summer residence and entered the gate. David Madsen parked in front of the garage as ordered and was above to open the door for Grand Duke.

“There is a cat carrier in a trunk. Take it and wait outside.”

He said coldly and released the driver. He never had been there for Victoria’s birthday before. Not a single one in ten years. Which was causing the unrest he wasn’t used to anymore. Systematic, detached, effective, those were his virtues. That’s why he never feared of failure because he was always prepared. The best educators and the most rigorous nurture shaped his skills. What no one had taught him, what he had never seen in his life was how to be a parent. He had promised no one will force him to this role, cause it wasn’t his decision, it was an accident. After his own father had died his duties as a father and husband stayed only virtual, he never really fulfilled them. He had chosen his own path and let the Duchess become tyrant according to her role as a mother because unfortunately, that was the only thing she experienced herself too, during her childhood. Certainly it didn’t help he couldn’t give the Duchess the one thing she really sought for. Love. So at least he gave her everything else she demanded. So as much as him, his wife corrupted the most essential task in their life and aimed for the false perfection instead. It had been a long time since Richard W. Chase realised the little girl is not responsible for their ominous lives, but he couldn’t change a thing. He didn’t know how. He messed up even more with the second attempt of parenthood. The car was air-conditioned, but he felt soaked shirt sticking to his sweaty body. He watched Victoria peeked through the lobby window and then finally dared to leave the house heading to the man with the cat carrier, hesitantly, the camera dangling on her neck. Nervous or not, it was time to become a father. Her curious and soft expression was replaced with cold politeness the moment she spotted him.

“Good day to you, Grand duke.”

She bowed and said with grace. It was nothing else, behind her words, though. It was an obligation she had to fulfil.

“You don’t have to call me Grand duke, Vicky.”

He tried but wasn’t able to remove the coldness from his voice. She examined him, and when came to a conclusion there is no directive behind his words, turned back to David Madsen.

“Can I play with your cat, sir…?”

“Driver, I’m just a driver. And the cat--”

“Of course, you can. Actually, Mr. Driver brought it for you. It’s a gift for your birthday.”

It supposed to be a gift from him, but somehow he realised maybe Victoria wouldn’t accept it. Maybe, she wouldn’t even believe his offer was sincere. So much for being a father. David Madsen knelt down in front of Victoria and opened the cat carrier. She blushed unable to overcome her shyness. Richard W. Chase blinked back tears forming in his eyes but his new driver reacted promptly. He reached for the little kitten hidden in the back of the cat carrier, grabbed it gently behind its ears and put it in Victoria’s lap. The kitten nestled there with ease.

“Mr. Driver, Mr. Driver it is Cheshire cat, isn’t it?”

She burst with happiness and hugged him, clumsily, the kitty still in her lap.

“Consider yourself hired, Mr. Madsen.”

The whisper didn’t belong to cruel CEO, those words were remnants of real human being. Nevertheless, the decision was very calculated. David Madsen was an outstanding soldier, serving his country. Despite his effort, he had to watch two men die on his watch without a chance to help them. When he had come home, he found out his fiance pregnant with someone else's child. He had joined the army to take care of his family, and he had ended used, deceived and abandoned. This man might not be meticulous and smooth, rather simple.  But his loyalty and natural father instincts made him perfect for the job.

“Why is the raven like a writing desk?”

Another hard to swallow pill. Once Victoria recognised he doesn’t request anything from her, he stopped existing in her world. There was only a Cheshire cat and man who brought the kitty.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to this riddle, Lady Victoria.” Said he.

“It was never meant to be a riddle, “ she chuckled, “it was never meant to have an answer because raven is not like a writing desk.”

Richard W. Chase turned around and head to the entrance. He couldn’t hold the tears anymore. David Madsen was a bit perplexed because he didn’t know. He didn’t know Victoria’s favourite book, yet.  He didn’t see her fall asleep reading it for the millionth time. He didn’t hear her talking with the inexistent cat when taking pictures of little bunnies in the royal garden. So he couldn’t know Raven is not like a writing desk. And he couldn’t know, yet that Richard W. Chase is not like a father. And he never will be.

* * *

 

**Wednesday, June 30, 2009,**

**07:14 am., Strasbourg Airport, Strasbourg, France**

“So this is it Cheshire cat. We are going to New York, aren’t we? I wish Freddy could go with us, he is too young for that though. But once I’m older, I’ll come back for him. No Duchess, no CEO. Are you excited?”

Young Lady Victoria did this little talk on a regular base. Every morning since her tenth birthday when David Madsen drove her to school or anywhere else and every afternoon when he picked her up. Classic British blue cat always accompanied them. She never spoke directly to her driver, always to the cat but since she was fourteen now, it was clear to both of them who was supposed to be the real listener. He didn’t know when it happened, but it did, and he wasn’t a mere driver anymore but also her confidant. Maybe it was the only time when she was herself. When she didn’t feel the urge to act the way it was expected from her. He never reacted to her confessions, actually never talked to her besides polite phrases and greetings or such. And she never wanted him to do so. Those mornings and afternoons were brief moments of weakness she dared to show when talked about her fears about how she can’t fail, about how she wants to be someplace far away, taking pictures and reading books drinking tea. As much as David Madsen wished to quit the job he never did. His employer Richard W. Chase was a ruthless unhinged man who always achieved what he wanted, no matter what the cost was. However, when his wife was present, the woman even more despicable and wrenched, which Grand Duke avoided as much as possible, he practically bowed to her. This dynamic of theirs was hard to get. But what was even harder was the relationship to their own kids. Both claimed their care for them sincerely, especially in fights David had overheard. But his care was neglect when it concerned Victoria and hardship when it concerned the youngest noble Frederik and her care. Well, it was also neglect and hardship just reversed.

There were times when he was close to believing they care. Like when Richard W. Chase called every Tuesday and Friday and asked about Victoria. As if he knew she’s spilling her guts to her driver. David was always careful what to say and how to say it. He wouldn’t dare to lie.

 _So is she happy?_ This question always came at the end of the conversation, and the answer was always the same.

_I don’t think I can say she is, sir._

Yeah, Victoria Chase was the most sorrowful child, well young woman now, he ever met. And David Madsen hated her parents for treating her the way they did. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t act like normal people. Why they couldn’t show, they care, why they couldn’t give her something to be happy about. And most recently Victoria got caught up in the middle of being the perfect daughter and trying to break all their rules when they weren’t present. He was the last person who could give her parental advice so he could just watch how she’s coming close to the edge. That's why he wanted to quit the job so badly because he couldn’t stand it. Although he felt oddly responsible for her. He wanted to believe those short moments when she could let it all out, meant something. And he also wished he could do more. But he couldn’t. Just drive and listen. Sometimes he thought he was betraying her exactly like her parents were.

 _Protect her but give her freedom and if her life is not in danger, interfere not! She must not be aware, she's watch over. She must not feel restricted._ Richard W. Chase had told him when it had been decided he is going to accompany Victoria to the States. It had been after the insane fight with the Duchess It was lost on him who was for New York option and who was for her staying in Strasbourg. But New York won eventually. David hadn’t said a word just nodded. It wasn’t his place to do so. Nevertheless, it was another absurd piece of Richard W. Chase and Duchess reality he couldn’t possibly get. His employer never forgot to emphasise how important Victoria’s safety and well being is, but he didn’t hesitate to send her overseas living by her own in one of the biggest city in the world. _She deserves a choice to do what she loves_ , he had told David. But what choice he had given her when not being around letting the Duchess control every aspect of her life? With too many questions and too little answers, there was only one thing he could hope for. That New York finally will be the thing that will make young Lady Victoria happy. She was already excited, but there were many conflicted emotions present. After four years David Madsen knew her that much. She was also scared, bit anxious, uneasy and self-conscious. He took a deep breath exit the car and open the rear door for his protege.

“Thank you, Mr. Driver.”

She said in a small voice so no one but him could hear it. It was beyond her as would the Duchess accentuate to speak with mob like him, after all.

* * *

 

**Sunday, October 27, 2013,**

**11:23 pm. Chase Manor, Strasbourg, France,**

“Hello, Mr. Driver.”

Victoria bumped into David in the Chase manor garage delivering her greetings too loudly, but it wasn’t what caught his attention. She was beaming. Her cheeks were pink from blush, and her eyes were full of life. He wasn’t her driver, anymore. Once she had come from New York, she refused to be a privileged daughter. And she was already eighteen so she could drive herself, but Richard W. Chase kept him around, anyway. His role was to watch over her when necessary and also run errands for Grand Duke himself from time to time. Like now. He was supposed to pick some documents from the study in manor and deliver them to the big boss in Zürich. He already obtained the briefcase, so the next task was to drive to Switzerland as fast as possible. David Madsen entered the car but couldn’t make himself to do so. Instead, he reached for the phone and press call button.

“What is it Mr. Madsen. Is there any trouble?”

“No, no sir.”

“Why are you bothering me then?”

“I’ve met Lady Victoria.”

Long silence spread around, and David realised maybe he made a mistake, but he couldn’t take it back. If he was on Richard W. Chase place, he’d wanted to know. He would die to know. So he spoke.

“I wanted to tell you she smiled. I think she was happy. _Is._ Present tense. I think she is happy.”

“Oh. I-I... Thank, you, Mr. Madsen. Thank you for telling me.”

Richard W. Chase ended the called before anything else could happen or be said and David blinked a couple of times before he started the engine.

* * *

 

**Sunday, November 17, 2013,**

**3:44 pm., Chase Enterprises, Zürich, Switzerland**

Usually, the hysterical call from his wife would be nothing more than 2 minutes long inconvenience, but this time something was different. His instinct was telling him something’s up. He wanted to believe his daughter finally stood against her mother’s oppressive care. The thing, every time he tried to stop failed. Like when he had let Victoria leave for New York. It would fit to the whole picture, considering the girl who had joined them for dinner not long ago. He almost let it go but in the end decided to call David Madsen, to confirm everything is under control.

“Where is Victoria?”

“She’s in the hospital.”

Richard W. Chase felt the lump in his throat that was impossible to swallow. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breath, he didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. Something wet drop from his nose and stained the perfect polished shoe. Before the world around him shut down completely he realised more started to seep, thicker this time. The last thing his brain logged was his own hand covered with dark red blood. Then his limp body went down to the floor.

* * *

 

**Monday, November 18, 2013,**

**4:44 am., Wilstätt General hospital, Willstätt, Germany**

Victoria left the hospital room of the young football player and stared at Richard W. Chase in awe. She forgot. He was sure she forgot he was there. He became such an insignificant part of her life the memory of their intense fight disappeared from her mind. But it didn’t from his. Same with the words of David Madsen when he had said she’s in the hospital. Those were still causing the sheer pain and terror of losing Victoria when he actually never really had her. He stood up and felt an intense urge to hug his daughter but she revealed his intentions immediately, and her body flinched slightly. It was a little move, but he noticed and stopped. She didn’t want to be hugged by him. He was a total stranger to her. She walked around him instead and head to the exit without saying a word. He followed. When in the parking lot she handed him the car keys and turned around ready to go away. Alone, on foot, crossing the snowy area. His eyes were fixed on the the white jersey with number 6 and name PRICE. Watching Victoria leave wearing that particular piece of clothing he realised he lost her for good. There will be no second chances, no more lousy attempts to be a father. She was in love, and unlike him so many years ago, she wasn’t afraid to forsake wealth and luxury, to break the royal chains and fight for her love.

“Vicky!”

She stopped but didn’t turn back.

“Where are you going? Where would you go?”

She moved away from him again, and he felt like drowning beneath a huge mass of desperation.

“Please, come home with me. We’ll figure this out.”

Victoria clenched her fists, took a deep breath, release them and finally dared to face her father.

“What do you want father? Where have you been for 18 years? Can you just go back there?

„As much as it’s worth, I am sorry.“

„Oh, save it. You’re anything but sorry. Richard W. Chase is not sorry. Never. Fuck. Just, just--” _Go away_ is what he expected. “Don’t tell the Duchess.” Is what she said then sighed, still determined but also very aware of the obstacles along the path she had chosen.

“I don’t see why I should.”

She accepted the offer reluctantly and headed to the car. He knew she considered putting trust in him as a leap of faith. It made him sad and happy at the same time. She jumped but already thinking about damage control, in case he won’t fulfil his part of the bargain.

“And leave Chloe alone, will you?”

She added looking right through him. He nodded and opened the door for her.

* * *

 

**Thursday, January 16, 2014,**

**07:11 am., Chase Enterprises, Zürich, Switzerland**

“Nothing else, only folder 0814?”

“Nothing else.”

There was everything in folder 0814. Everything Richard W. Chase missed from Victoria’s life. Good and bad. Video from her first fencing championship, when she was 7. The first picture she took, white rabbit in the royal garden. The photos that David Madsen had got from slimy paparazzi after he beat the shit out of him, Victoria and prominent New York heiress kissing on them. Everything. Chase Enterprises security was breached yesterday, and it seemed, the intruder was only interested in folder 0814.

“How did it happen, Mr. Madsen how?”

Ruthless CEO was losing it no doubt. And the question wasn’t if he will explode but when.

“With all due respect, sir. I’m only a driver not and IT specialist.”

“She is your responsibility!” He took the laptop from his massive executive desk and tossed it against the wall. “You are fucking supposed to keep her safe!”

David Madsen remained silent. There was nothing he could say or do to cease the outburst. He expected to be blamed, everyone is going to be blamed. It was almost sure whole IT department will be fired. What he didn’t expect was a frontal assault. Richard W. Chase hit him. Twice before he could react.

“You fucking failed her.” He yelled.

Once the situation was evaluated properly, the former soldier has no trouble to pacify raging businessman with one well-aimed choke hold. Richard W. Chase was struggling for sufficient amount of time but succumbed eventually.

“Consider this as my resignation.”

David released the hold and let his former employer sink to the ground.

“I’m sure now, Victoria is an outstanding young woman, perfectly capable of taking care of herself. As much as it pains me, she doesn’t need me anymore.”

Richard W. Chase tried to stand up but ended kneeling. He didn’t have the energy for more, barely able to catch a breath.

“Oh, and for the record sir, when we are talking about our responsibilities. You are fucking supposed to be her father. Which, you never were.”

The door slammed leaving him alone.

“Because raven is not like a writing desk, Mr. Madsen. Simple as that.”

He muttered to himself and crawled to the office desk to reach for the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if you care about this Royal stuff or geography but in case you do:
> 
>  **Liechtenstein ** is small self-sufficient monarchy within Europe. In reality, its ruler is Prince, not Grand Duke. But this story is fictional, so I changed it. Because Grand Duke sounds soooooo ominous. Prince and Princess are pussies.. lol. What is actually true, that Liechtenstein royal family owns the largest family-owned private wealth and asset management financial group. When anyone marries the duke, she became a duchess.
> 
>  **Germany** is a Federal Parliamentary republic. The German nobility still has some privileges but have no real influence on official German affairs. House of Hohenzollern (the Duchess’ family) is a real dynasty of former princes, electors, kings and emperors of Hohenzollern, Brandenburg, Prussia, the German Empire, and Romania.
> 
>  **Switzerland** is a federal semi-direct democracy, extending across the Germany and Liechtenstein (and other countries that are not important for his moment), and has a stable, prosperous and high-tech economy and enjoys great wealth, being ranked as the wealthiest country in the world per capita in multiple rankings. Zürich is a leading global city and among the world’s largest financial centres. So, you can imagine lots of the people from neighbouring countries coming to work to Switzerland because, yeah.. the wages are multiplied.
> 
>  **France** , well France is just a country where the Duchess wants to live, and I have nothing more to say about it. Sorry, France. :)
> 
>  **Japan** (I mentioned it a chapter before, so if you are interested in royalty and geography..) Japan as you surely know is not in Europe. It’s an Island country in East Asia, and it’s Unitary parliamentary constitutional monarchy. Even when the head of state, the power of the Emperor is very limited, but the imperial family still perform many ceremonial and social duties.
> 
>  And last but not least, if you are wondering: **" Why is a _raven like a writing desk_** **?** "  is the most famous unanswerable riddle and it's from Alice Adventures in Wonderland. I can't believe you still didn't read the book :p


	30. The girl who is obsessed with deep core stabilizing muscles

**Sunday, February 16, 2014, 3:14 pm.,**

**Price house, Willstätt, Germany,**

You enter the Price’s garage repurposed as a gym and your eyes land on the pull-up bar at once. Chloe’s body is elevating up the bar, and you stare and gulp. She only wears the black sports bra and sweatpants of the same colour, and you struggle to steady your breathing. It’s a good thing she’s not facing you. It’s hard enough to stay composed seeing her back muscles flexing and extending, pulling the beautiful body of hers up and down. But if the other side of her were uncovered her bared abs and beads of sweats breaking out of them, it would blow your mind. You’d explode and attack her. Knocked her down and devour every piece of her body. But that’s not why are you here. The image of you and Chloe living happily ever after in your own little castle protected from the outside world is the most pleasant, but it’s not how does it work. You need to face reality. You take Chloe’s sports hoodie lying on the powerlifting bench and make your presence known.

“Seems like you have warm-up covered already, love.”

She jumps off the bar and takes a step towards you. Her intentions could not be more transparent. Your lips and bodies locked together are definitely involved. And you cannot allow that because under her spell you’ll drop all of the intended plans and let be carried away with neediness.

“Wear this. We are going to do yoga, not taking soft porn insta stories.”

You flinch and hand her the hoodie deliberately avoiding looking at her core. She bites her lips and probably considering to riot. Your determine gape makes her resign.

“Urgh. Fine. But only because I love you, babe.”

She puts the hoodie on and sits on the yoga mat grumpily, adjusting to the sukhasana pose. She closes her eyes and starts with the deep breaths. It takes some time till she lowers her heartbeat. You join her and try to focus. It surprised you a bit that Chloe protested only with a mild intensity and agreed to do these exercises, eventually. You didn’t go much into details when trying to explain your reasons why it’s so important for her. Even if it’s probably more important for your mental stability, though. Because this is a sophisticated effort to keep her safe, right? You finally find the composure and start the yoga workout, slowly describing the poses, the breathing techniques and other important stuff. Chloe already knows most of the things, she’s a quick learner and follows without complaint. At least for a moment.

“Tell me again, why are we fucking doing this?”

She sighs drained and gives you puppy eyes. You glance at her sports watch and shake your head faking the disappointment. 32 minutes. She withstood 32 minutes. That’s a new record. Her eyes lay on the watch too, and she gives you perfect smug grin as she was aware of her _great achievement_ as much. However, something else happens, also. The vanity is fading away, and her fingers slid down to her wrist gently touching black strap. Suddenly she blushes. You bought the watch as a gift on your one-month anniversary. Chloe was furious with you and didn’t want to accept it. Not only because it was expensive as fuck.

Yeah, you know it was a dumb move. Your plan on how to cut the string with the Duchess and your family definitely won’t work, when you keep spending their money, instead of saving them. You couldn’t help it anyway.  The moment you saw the watch you wanted Chloe to have them. You would give her everything. She protested and defied and refused to take them and then you explained. Everytime you stay overnight _(which is definitely not unusual)_ , she makes you breakfast and coffee and never misses the opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are. Not only that. It comes naturally. Never ever in your life, someone treated you like that. Fortunately, the mornings full of heinous passive aggressiveness are just a distant memory. For now, you spend the night at Chase manor rarely, an encounter with the Duchess is an occurrence even more unlike. But when it comes to that, she offers cold politeness, nothing more. Which is the thought, you are not going to ponder about now. You reach for Chloe’s hand still caressing the black strap. And it’s a hell of the job to not melt and sound like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Because Isometric contractions of stabilising muscles act to support the trunk, limit the movements in a joint and control balance. Strong stabilising muscles minimise harmful joint translation, improve biomechanics and create a solid framework.”

“So?”

“So, unfortunately, it won’t protect you from some bitch trying to knock you down but at least working on stabilising muscles keeps you from pain, injuries and improves regeneration.”

Chloe struggles, no doubt. You know, yoga is the least entertaining thing for her, but she’s also trying to understand your point of view. And you desperately want to show her effort is appreciated.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Unconsciously you reach for her hand and bring it to your lips, spilling a couple of kisses on her knuckles. “ _I need some brutal workout, Vic. This breathing bulshit is dull and stupid. I need something explosive._ ”

“Nah. I do not!”

“Chloe, should I use some interrogation techniques to make you speak the truth?”

“Depends. What techniques are you planning to use?”

You feel the heat spreading from your lower abdomen and growl in frustration. She thinks she’s done with the workout. At least with the workout you prepare for her. You don’t plan to budge, though.

“Come on, love. Let’s get this yoga exercise over with and then we can do TRX, which is way more fun.”

“Those straps are torture not fun.”

“Well a bit, maybe. But those straps will make these perfect abs even more perfect. And also improve biomechanics, develop balance, flexibility and stability. Thus, protect you from injuries.”

Your hands find the way under her shirt, without your conscious effort. You can’t recognise it, yet but Chloe can. You lost, and your craving for her is about to overcome you. She’s definitely sure the chance she’s going to miss this opportunity is none. Her pout only underlines her intention.

“Uh-huh.”

“So don’t be a slacker and let’s do the TRX workout.”

You say, but those words are nothing more than remnants of your vain effort. What you are supposed to do, what your hands are supposed to do is stop touching Chloe’s abs and help her to stand. It’s not happening, though. Your will’s broken, your mind is clouded with lust. Chloe won, and you don’t mind at all. She leans closer but doesn’t bring your lips together, yet, just stares at you. She has no reason to rush because you are completely under her spell now and she knows it. So you just sit idly and breath. Her. The scent so familiar you could recognise it anyplace, anywhere, anytime. The scent that sends a shiver down your spine, that activates the most sensitive parts of your body and let them burn with the desire to be touched. All those things will be given to you, and that thought starts an uncontrollable tremble. Chloe is very much aware of the state your body and mind are in, as she finally kisses you.

The kiss is almost chaste, just the light brush but still, you whimper as it reminds you of how much you were aching for it. You are aching for so much more but on the other hand, even this plain contact, the kisses so light and tender, are absolute bliss. Every small moan you release is an undeniable reminder. And the girl you love can read it so well. Something’s telling you she is about to prolong the pleasure of yours to the maximum limits. After she takes her time, your daze is multiplied with the taste of her tongue in your mouth, at last, and you whimper again. Part of you wants to beg her to take you at once, but you can’t do a thing about it. You are floating on the cloud nine under total control of Chloe Price. She can and will do whatever she wants with you. No to mention it will be the slowest most agonising, yet most thrilling delight. She removes your hands from her abs and does the same with your shirt, as she’s moving you to the lying position, the short moment when your lips are not touching is well used though.

“I wish I’ll never have to stop touching you.”

Her passionate words finish you. You die and are reborn in ecstasy. All of your senses, sight, touch, smell, taste and now even the hearing are overload with euphoria. And it’s only the beginning.

* * *

 

You open your eyes and the room filled with darkness, the lack of vision, only strengthen your other senses. The first thing you feel is the muscle soreness. The second is the pool of wetness between your legs. The memories of what you did to Victoria, what she did to you, makes you bite your lips. It started in the garage, continued in the shower and eventually, you ended in your bed. Intensive workout, definitely. Not exactly the one Victoria planned for you but still. You, of course, understand she means well and try really hard to follow her lead. There are two main obstacles in the way. Yoga/TRX crossovers exercises suck because controlling the deep core stabilising muscles is a pain in the ass. And even when, as you ascertained for many times, Victoria’s presences changes everything, being near her and not touching her amazing body is almost mission impossible. It’s funny how you considered her as one of those anorectic bitches, starving themselves doing tons of cardio in false believe it will bring them the perfect body. Which is absolute nonsense and bodies of these dummies are unattractive bones and limbs with zero body muscles. The more touchy you become, the more of Victoria’s body had become familiar to you the more you realised your assumption couldn’t be more wrong. She definitely isn’t as strong as you, but her muscles are perfectly lean. Hell, her core and her abs are like from the Sports Illustrated cover. And all because of this little obsession of hers with stabilising muscles.

You smirk thinking about the argument with guys last summer. You played with a ball in the park and in the break they were stalking facebook profiles of chicks from your school. There was one picture of Victoria in a bikini. You argued it was photoshopped, but someone claimed his sister saw her in P.E. class, and her abs were the real thing. The main reason why you doubted the authenticity of the picture was simple. If it were real, you’d find her hot and back then it would be outrageous. When you want to reach for her, one of your other senses tells you something’s wrong.

You cannot hear her breathing. She’s not there with you. The panic bursts in your chest and the cold sweat forms out of nowhere. The feeling of terror is entirely unreasonable. She probably only went to the bathroom or take a glass of water. Yet, you cannot help yourself. You want to jump from the bed and seek her. Which would be absolutely idiotic. So you try to calm yourself and ponder if you should tell her. These _panic attacks_ are not pleasant occurrences. Which is even more concerning, they are worsening. Of course, you cannot be with Victoria all the time, it’s only natural to be apart from time to time but when she’s not around, when doesn’t reply to your message in reasonable time (20 seconds perhaps), sometimes it triggers an insane line of thinking which contains multiple scenarios how she changed her mind and abandoned you. When you decided to go public with your relationship, like really public, you didn’t take her warnings seriously. Oh, boy how much it hit you when tabloid posted old pictures of you making out with some random girls at parties you don't rembember.

How they questioned Victoria’s taste when she chose _the girl of such manners._ You were infuriated, shamed and horrified what will happen. She was awesome, though. She never questioned your loyalty, never stopped comforting you, said the tabloids are a dump.  When pictures of her and Nathan Prescott appeared you weren’t so kind. It was obvious it’s only a friendly hug, no kissing and it was also evident the pic is old. Still, you couldn’t suppress the jealousy. You told Victoria you need to be alone. It was only for a couple of hours but compared to her approach, your behaviour wasn’t nice at all. You are thinking about Nathan Prescott, now. What if he really is into your girl, like tabloids said. What if he’ll try to steal her? You’re losing your mind, and there is only one thing that can stop this madness. Victoria. You need to find her, and you need to do it quickly. No matter how idiotic it may be. You leave the bed and head to the door. It opens from the other side before you can reach it. The light from the hall blinds you for a moment, and you wobble.

“You are famished, aren’t you? I knew it.”

Says the person in the light and enters the room. You blink a couple of times to adjust your vision and recognise the plate with sandwiches in her hand. She puts it on the nightstand, switches on the night light and sits on the bed.

“Are you gonna join me, love? Or just stand and stare?”

That’s exactly what are you doing, you realise. It’s because angst is fading. And that’s a wonderful feeling. Any uncontrollable fear will be soon forgotten like it never existed. Because Victoria is here with you. You shut the door and make the last step to killing those freaking demons in your head. Which is kissing your girl, right away. She smiles into your mouth, and you do the same, then break the kiss and hug her tightly.

“Thank you,” you whisper thinking about all of the things you’re thankful for.

“It’s nothing.” She says like it really was something unimportant.

“After all that hard _workout_ you deserve some quality protein and even carbs.” She smirks. “Unfortunately, my skill doesn’t offer much room for creativity, so salmon sandwich has to do.” And smirk some more.

Holy hell, she thinks you thanking her for the meal. Maybe it’s better that way. It was nothing after all. Just some stupid feeling that is long gone.

“This is perfect, Vic.”

You kiss her once more and grab the sandwich. After first bite it’s crystal clear you really were starving. Intensive lovemaking, you mean working out, drained you. Actually, you don’t remember when you eat the last time. So whatever Victoria’s cooking or non-cooking skills are, this meal feels like heaven.  You’re so into it you almost miss the point of her consecutive rambling. She’s talking about her uncle birthday ceremony that will take place in Hohenzollern castle. Even if you weren’t almost faint from hunger, it would be hard to pay attention. What she’s saying is a bit confusing and she kind of stutters, which is unusual. Sometimes she drops a story about one of the crazy members of her family. You believe that’s the case again and lose the focus. When her speech is finished, she looks at you with anticipation, and you have no clue what she expects. So you try to replay the whole story and find some lead what that is.

“Uhm…”

Fuck. Did she ask you something? Come on, Chloe, think!

“You know that thing with the tattoo was a joke, right?”

“Tattoo?” Did she mention tattoo?

“Yeah, when I said I want you to go with me to the uncles birthday ceremony as my girlfriend but only if you’ll have some big outrageous tattoo till then, it was a joke.”

Did she say really say that?

“I mean not about going with me. I want you to go with me. Well, I’ll understand if you say no. Still, I want everyone to know we belong together. I mean--”

She seems a bit nervous and stutters again, and even if it still doesn’t make much sense, you think she looks adorable.

“--I mean, I didn’t want to go at first. They are mostly a bunch of judgemental narrow-minded pricks. But if you’d go with me. I mean if we go as a couple, no stupid tabloids would see this as silly affair anymore.”

She puts her hand on your chest, and you feel it’s shaking a bit. So, you put away the rest of the sandwich and squeeze it reassuringly.

“There will be no more doubts about my feelings towards you.”

She smiles, and so do you. You’re definitely not a fan of any royal ceremonies but what’s she offering is oddly tempting. Even when you see a little catch.

“What about the Duchess? Didn’t you say we should stay out of her sight? Out of her influence.”

“”I did. I did, but maybe I should be more like you. Maybe I should be a little bit reckless. I am not afraid of the Duchess, anymore. I believe in our love, and that’s why she cannot hurt us. Maybe she understood. She didn’t mention you once. Maybe she accepted she lost.”

It sounds too perfect to be true, but maybe the odds are finally in your favour.

“I’ll go with you, but we need to figure out the tattoo thing. Just imagine the Duchess she would probably have a stroke.”

Victoria laughs but only for a second till her expression is serious again.

“No tattoos, Chloe. It was just teasing. I can see you’ll have one in the future as an expression of your shining personality, but it’s permanent. It should be about you and only you. Not about pissing some wretched woman.”

“What about body painting, then? Just for the evening. Like…raven with the spread wings on my back combined with the dress that uncovers the most of it? You can draw the image. You can paint it. It would be sexy and cool and…”

“You’re crazy.”

“I am crazy about you Victoria Chase. So what do you say? We will rock that party. And you’ll draw some badass bodypainting.”

“Well…”

“Just say yes.”

“Yes, ok, yes. I didn’t expect you to be so eager to come with me.”

“Me neither but, hey with you around, nothing is impossible.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“In that case, I was wondering, what do you think of Barcelona?”

“Barcelona? Why?”

Actually, you don’t think a single shit about Barcelona. You never really think about it. Soon you’ll wish Barcelona never existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps, one advice. If you want to lose weight, don’t do cardio. Trust me, now I am an official licensed personal trainer :).
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a filler, more or less but lots of the things needed to be settled for the consecutive plot. As I wrote before, I changed the ending, so rewriting this chapter was a pain in the ass, because lots of the things had to be changed.  
> That’s not the reason I was gone for weeks, though. It’s nothing story related, so if you don’t mind to miss this little adventure of mine stop reading.
> 
> Well, actually I have had a feeling it is story related so many times, it almost blew my mind, lol.  
> 3 months ago, I met a girl. Her is name is Victoria. She is total Victoria Chase doppelganger. Blond, arrogant, spoiled rich bitch. Great photographer, love and acceptance seeker (secretly). When she loves she loves with her whole heart and when she doesn’t, well...  
> What we had it was mental. Intense. Unexpected. Difficult. I think I broke her heart, she definitely broke mine. Too bad life is not a story, and you cannot just rewrite the chapter that came out wrong. But maybe I still can change the ending. Who knows.  
> The day I told her I liked her, I encountered a deer. A real deer. In Prague. Well outskirts, but still. Bonkers.


	31. The girl you don't want to mess with

**Sunday, February 23, 2014, 11:14 am.,**

**Orsay Stadium, Willstätt, Germany,**

**SC Sand vs. SV 67 Weinberg, 2nd Frauen Bundesliga**

 

What a fucking awesome day it is. How many times you told yourself it’s going to be just fine? You actually believed it. Now everything sucks. Barcelona thing doesn't help. You stand in front of Orsay Stadium reluctant to enter chainsmoking for twenty minutes or so. You spent a lot of the time in here recently. Well not exactly here but on the training grounds not far watching Chloe and the team preparing for the spring part of the season. First, they trained inside but from February training sessions moved outside, and it was bloody cold. You didn’t mind much, though. You armoured yourself with thickest Burberry coat and your laptop and did your stuff mostly but glancing towards Chloe occasionally when you felt like it. Every time you did, hell of the flame burnt inside you, spreading across every cell in your body. She looked like an ancient Greek Goddess, conquering the place, owning it, controlling every single piece of it. Her muscles flexing in perfect harmony with her intention to finish the drill. Yeah, you are pretty sure if ancient Greeks worshipped football, Chloe would be the chosen deity. After the session was over, she always stopped by before the shower to kiss you. Sometimes gently, sometimes fiercely, possessively. And fueled that flame so powerful burning from inside to the point you felt it could reduce you to the ashes and you wouldn't give the slightest fuck. Because you rather feel that flame for a second and let it burn you than never feel it and live like you lived before. Like a slave to everyone's expectations. So this part of the spring pre-season was joyful and safe. Training are considered safe in your head because no one is after your girl, trying to score. The other part of pre-season, though… You were dreading this day would come, the day winter break will be over. The day when you attend Chloe’s competitive game again for the first time since you saw her being knocked down. It was almost three months ago. Your body is trembling insanely when vivid images are projected in front of your eyes. You throw away the cigarette stub, firing another lung cancer catalyst immediately. Fuck. Wish you could use some Xanax instead.

“Come’ere.”

Taylor reaches for your free hand and tries to bring you closer. She’s the only one who knows what’s going on in your head right now. You didn’t share much, but she always knows. And she was in the fucking hospital with you after all. Also, you do not have a doubt she would feel the same if Steph was about to step on the field.

 “V, come here.”

She brings you to her arms despite your dismissive attitude and feeling of comfort is imminent when you lay your head on her shoulder.

“You smell like a chimney.” She teases.

“You love it.” So are you.

“I hate it.”

“You’re free to leave.” But of course, she stays.

“What was the first thing you told me after we met?”

She runs her hand down to your spine, and you realise you didn’t think about that day like for ages. You just came back from New York to finish the second semester of the sophomore year on Wilstätt Academy. And the bomb waited for you. Drama club supposed to rehearse Shakespeare’s Tempest. Somehow you felt obliged to go for the lead. But in the end, you didn’t, you came to the rehearsal and decide to go against your destiny to be a Queen Bee for the first time and passed. Still, you were kind of curious who won the part and went to check the board in front of the drama class after it was decided. She stood there, strangely beautiful, fighting the tears. You thought she was the saddest person you ever met. Against your vicious nature, an amazing friendship started that moment. It brings a light smile to your face.

“I said, sweetie if you want to be one tough bitch, you cannot let some another bitch bring tears into your eyes.”

She chuckles, and there is this look full of adoration and amusement in her eyes.

“Well, that too, but after that, when we grabbed a coffee. You told me it’s not worthy to be bothered by some shits you cannot change. Better be focused on the things you can change.”

“Did I really say that?”

“No, it was some other person who has been my best friend for more than two years and helped me through every crazy shit I couldn't change. And also those I could.”

She puts both of her hands on your cheeks and brings you even closer so your foreheads are touching.

“V., you can't change Chloe,” you know that much, nothing would stop her from playing football. Well, maybe if you cut her limbs. No, she would find a way anyway, “what you can do is stop worrying. It’s not like she’s doing some extreme sport, Motocross or Thai box or such. It’s highly unlikely, an accident like that will happen again.”

“I know, I know, I just…”

“Just love her and be there for here. You’ll see, it all will be alright, eventually.”

Taylor damn right knows what she’s talking about. She finally opened to you about this piece of her past. The reason why she desperately wanted to be in the play was because Steph, her dreamgirl, love of her life was doing the backstage work. But she lost. Another girl won the part and Steph’s heart, too in the end. She retreated but never really surrendered. She never stopped loving Steph. And now they are happy together.

“Vic?!”

You disentangle from Taylors embrace and meet Chloe’s angry eyes.

“You were supposed to…” check on her before the game and give her good luck kiss. You agreed on that yesterday, but you were kind of absorbed in your own dread, so you forgot, it seems.

“...I guess you’re enjoying someone else company more,” you miss the daggers sent Taylor’s way, “and since when you’re smoking?”

“I don’t know, since forever.” When you’re über stressed and cannot be Xanaxed or calmed by Chloe’s soothing presence.

You spat at her ire words. It shouldn’t sound so wicked, you didn’t plan to be heinous, but the fear residing in your brain makes you.

“What’s your fucking problem, Victoria?”

_No problem at all, just having some PTSD from reliving the memory of my love lying in the pool of blood._ You think but don’t say. You see no point.

“I don’t have any. Just having a cigarette with my friend in the parking lot. The game starts in 45 minutes, for fuck sake.”

“Whatever, I need to warm up. I have to go.”

“Fine, go. Be pissed with me for no reason.”

You see Chloe leaving not giving you anything more. Well, except for the middle finger. Fucking great. Last time you had a fight before the game, she maimed herself.

“V, why you…”

“Shut up, Tay, just shut up and go find your girl, please. You should be with her.”

I’m not leaving, not when you're like this.”

“Go. Just go. Please.”

Of course, Taylor does as you command, eventually. You love her from the bottom of your heart, but you haven’t stopped being a Queen bitch in your heart you’ll never will and no one wants to mess with you. Instead of taking another cigarette you toss the pack in the trash and inhale deeply. _Damn!_ Today is so essential for Chloe, and instead of supporting her you let yourself be consumed by your own bullshits. The rumour has it Turbine Potsdam is really interested in her, and their scout will be here today. But what’s more important to your girl right now is the promotion to Bundesliga. As a captain she feels the responsibility for the team and with possible departure at the end of the season she wishes to give her best for the rest of the time with SC Sand. She didn’t say, but you’d be a fool if not see it. You told her about Barcelona. It was a very thoughtful conversation, and you didn’t suggest anything. You presented it as one of the options, cause you were accepted to Art school there. She didn’t dismiss it but choosing a self-deception and believe she’s considering it would be ridiculous. Berlin is her final destination, not Barcelona. And you haven’t the slightest clue how to figure this out, but there is still time for that. Today she has to play her best and impress the scout. It’s of utmost importance. For her. _Fuck._ So what are you going to do now, is apologise and support your girlfriend in her effort to leave for Berlin next fall. The city thousand kilometres away from here and two thousand kilometres from Barcelona. The city where her first love lives. The piece of cake. You use the service entrance to the stadium. The security guy with nickname Shrek smiles even holds the door for you. You’ve become well-known here in the last two months due to the amount of time spent watching the team, or more like Chloe to train. Everyone knows you are Willstät newest power couple and despite your heinous nature you can be quite charming, especially when your love is around. So when heading to the locker room, you catch some more smiles and dear greetings, from physio, from goalkeeper coach or even the general manager. Yeah, having a royal daughter supporting the team definitely attracts some attention, including new sponsors. You exchange a couple of polite phrases with him, but you can’t wait to meet Chloe. When he’s finally done you hope she’s still around not already on the playfield warming up. When you spot her at the end of the corridor, she’s talking with some Weinberg player. _Talking._ What an understatement. Weinberg bitch, tall blond whore look-a-like is shamelessly flirting with YOUR FREAKING GIRLFRIEND. You feel your nails burrowing into the skin on your palms when clenching the fists subconsciously. The blond nobody puts her hand on Chloe’s arms and runs it up and down slowly till she squeezes it. This pathetic attempt to flatter her is accompanied by embarrassing giggles. Every silly laugh irritates the right places in your brain transforming you into the Hulk, Mr. Hyde or Venom. Doesn’t matter what’s the poison but your final form will no doubt rip apart the stupid wench, who dared to make a move on YOUR GIRL. Every cell in your body is yearning for the revenge. It demands the blood of the Weinberg slut. Or at least public humiliation of that pathetic creature.  It’s in you after all. Your royal highness simply must stomp on the faces of those who are unworthy. But…

Today is about Chloe not about you. You avoid the scene, but it also means you cannot talk and support her because it requires approaching. If you approach, you’ll be in the proximity of an empty plastic doll, and there is a high probability, you’d strangle her. At best. At worst mutilation comes as an option. So you turn around and head to the stands. Taylor can sense the state of disturbance your mind is drowning in and choose the distraction technique. She talks about shoes that would fit the best for her new dress. It works, the shoes always work, and you are grateful because Chloe doesn’t look at you once during the warm-up. Who’s not grateful is Taylor’s demon hunter girl because she’s heavily overlooked by her girlfriend. The game starts and thanks fuck the annoying dipshit stays on the bench. But when Chloe’s run for the throw in she is super eager to hand her the ball. Some other Weinberg bench warmer interferes, though. This one looks like female version of the terminator. After a brief jealousy scene, both end back on the bench and Chloe picks the ball by herself. Your eyes meet for a quick moment. You cannot read her. _Oh, fucking great._ So blond slut not only hitting on Chloe but she’s doing it in front of her terminator girlfriend. What a jackass. In ten minutes Sand is two goals down, and Chloe’s performance sucks royally. Watching SC Sand play is pure torment, and half-time break feels like salvation. For you and for the team. But your job is not done. Chloe disappears in the stadium in no time, and you lean towards Steph.

“You, geek girl are going to find Chloe and tell her I’m sorry.”

“I don’t see why I should do something for you. Besides why in the hell are you not going by yourself.”

“It’s not for me, dummy. It’s for Chloe. She needs to play her best and win this game. She cannot do it when disturbed and pissed.  And I can’t talk to her because I’m pissed. And when we communicate both pissed, it’s likely to cause the chain reaction leading to the nuclear winter.”

Steph stares at you angrily, and you are very close to slap her but find a composure somewhere deep down.

“So would you kindly go fucking tell her I’m sorry for being a dick.”

“Why are you friend with her? Nevermind, I will never understand.”

She releases Taylor’s hand, stands up and is about to leave. You are two seconds for spitting at her _Because I was there for her when she was miserable, and you were fucking that ungrateful cheating bitch._ But you won’t.

“Tell her sometimes either locks are too large, or the key is too small. Tell her I love her.” You shout, and everyone around looks at you, but Steph doesn’t turn back to acknowledge if she’s got it.

“Want something to eat? Drink?”

Cheerful and lighthearted as always Taylor offers you another distraction.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“What? No bratwurst? No cheap beer? I can’t believe you want to miss this opportunity.”

She chuckles, and you surrender.

“Fine. Fuck it. Let’s get some horrible processed meat with lots of preservatives, additives and minimum of actual meat and hope it won’t give us cancer.”

You go to the food stands and choose the bacon wrapped sausage in hot dog bun with tons of sauteed onions and mustard. Plus the super sweet raspberry soda. Taylor leads you to the east staircase, which is guest sector so it’s not as crowded and you can have some privacy. You sit down on the stairs and shitload of sugar, and trans fats make you feel better immediately.

“Remember, when we used to eat salad and drink aloe vera water?”

She chuckles and licks her mustards stained fingers.

“You mean the times when everyone thought you’re dating Nathan Prescott and I am waiting for some College guy because high school boys are not for me?”

She bursts into laughter. You are not far from it either. Damn, that’s quite a progress. Two queen bees, symbols of glam and snobbery are eating greasy food on the stadium and in the meantime dating lezzie school geek and social outcast.

“I am sorry, Tay. I am so sorry, you didn’t feel like you could be yourself around me.”

“V, shush. I could say the same thing. Besides I was always myself with you so much more than when around anyone else. And look how it played eventually. We both have our girl.”

Her knee nudges into yours, and she smiles, and you can tell how much in love she is and how happy Steph makes her. You would never have guessed, maybe no one would, but they are perfect for each other. So very incompatible at first sight but they totally complement each other. Taylor’s bubbly personality and easiness and Steph’s serenity and chivalry definitely match. You finish your meal and go back to your seats. The second half is about to start when Steph joins you. She gives you icy glare and the urge to slap her is back. But Taylor’s hand slips into hers and engages her in the light kiss. If it weren’t for Taylor, you’d hit her anyway. But your BFF had your back today more than you deserve. So not maiming her girlfriend is the least you can do. SC Sand finally play their game. Three goals in less than 15  minutes bring Weinberg on their knees. And Turbine Potsdam scout must see who is behind the radical change. Weinberg coach needs to react. Somehow his choice doesn’t surprise you.

The terminator bitch is subbed in, and you smell trouble. She’s a striker, so Chloe and her will definitely clash a lot. It’s happening SC Sand captain now focused play at her best. She wins every tackle and Sand scores once more. Weinberg is crumbling. They are becoming desperate because before the break they thought the chance to win is real. Now, they are unable to do anything else than long through passes that are never properly delivered.  Chloe and her defence couldn’t have a problem with such lousy play. When one of the long passes heads right towards your girl. The time slows.

The pressure in your temples reaches its limit when you see terminator chick speeding up. She has no chance to be there on time. Chloe tames the ball in the air and swings it to the winger, but Weinberg striker performs an attempt to kick the place where the ball is no longer. Only Chloe’s chest. You watch the knockdown, and your blood boils. You even snap the plastic seat you’re sitting at, without realising it. The peace of the seat ripped the skin on the palm of your hand. It’s bleeding, but the pain is the last thing you feel. The tremendous pressure inside your head is rising. The kicker is sent off immediately. She doesn’t even protest. Just heads to the locker rooms. She knows what she has done. Her intention definitely wasn’t chasing the ball. She just wanted to kick, Chloe. The medics are heading to your love but she’s standing up wobbly. It takes a couple of seconds, the discussion between her and them, but it seems like an eternity. She stays on the field. She’s cleared to play again. She’s OK. The pressure’s not dissipating, though. Taylor is talking to you, but you don’t hear a word. There is nothing but rage in you. Rage in your veins, rage flexing your muscles, rage clouding your mind. Undiluted violent rage. _Rage. Rage. Rage._ You find yourself inside of the stadium tailing the terminator bitch. She’s not aware of your presence till you put a hand on her arm. She turns and snaps.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Burning with rage, you’re not able to say anything but stare.

“Leave me the fucking alone, freak.”

She turns away from you and intends to move. One of your feet interferes with hers, and she ends on the floor. You grab her arm again. The bitch has no idea what’s coming to her when you turn her body around and kneel on her chest.

“I’m Victoria Fucking Chase.” You Introduce her face to your fist. “And who the fuck are you?” Punch. Punch. Pant. Punch.

Two meters tall and hundred and ten kilos heavy security guard is barely able to drag you away.

“Victoria, Victoria stop!” The rage is consuming you and makes you hit him too. He falls down. And you finally stop the punching insanity. You stand up and stare at your mangled knuckles. Girl’s face is much worse, though.

“Touch Chloe again, and I kill you. Same with your whore girlfriend.”

 

* * *

 

**Sunday, February 23, 2014, 4:09 pm.,**

**Price house, Willstätt, Germany**

 

You should be happy. Beyond excited. You impressed the scout. But you only can focus on the fact that your chest hurt like fuck. There will be a huge bruise there tomorrow. What that bitch thought when kicked you down? Actually, lying to yourself won’t do you any justice. Those are the last things that concern you. Some bruise or some bitch. The pain you feel is based on something different. Victoria in Taylor’s embrace. Victoria not waiting for you after the game. Victoria not responding to your messages. Victoria Fucking Chase. The sheets still smell like her. Of course, they do. She slept here last night. And left early in the morning. She said, she doesn’t want to distract you before the game. You were thankful because you indeed needed some alone time. But you also needed her to show up, eventually and give you a good luck kiss. Instead, you found her outside the stadium doing some weird bonding with Taylor and smoking. You growl and sink deeper into the sheets, letting her scent mess with your head even more. You’d probably wallow in self-pity and anger for the whole afternoon if not for the knock on your door.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

You don’t look at Victoria but her soft voice brings a massive relief.

“Go. Away. Go, away.”

The anger is still there, though. You lie on your side clutching the blanket like your life depended on it.

“Where have you been? Where were you this morning? Where were you before the game? Where were you after the game?”

The words keep flowing.

“I know where you weren’t. With me. Because you were all fired up to be hugging and kissing with your blond Barbie.”

The mattress behind your back descends a bit, which indicates she sits down. You stiffen.  If you looked at her, you’d burst into tears, no doubt. One of her hands reaches for your arm. You desperately want to resist, but it’s not an option. Everything in you craves to be touched by her.

“Morning I was freaking out…” She starts slowly, “...thinking about your first competitive game since you ended in the hospital and dreaded you’re going to be knocked down again as unlikely it seemed. Because seeing you on the ground covered with blood was the worst thing ever happened to me. Believe it or not.”

Her fingers are making little circles around your arm, and she sounds more and more vulnerable.

“Before the game, I saw some preposterous bitch flirting with you without shame.”

“During the game I watched her crazy girlfriend ninja kicking you to the chest.”

“After that, I found her in the locker room and punched her to the face. I broke her nose undoubtedly.”

What did Victoria say? What has she done? Because of..because of you. You turn and sit and look her right in the eyes.

“And then I hopped in the Audi speeding down Bundesautobahn 3 like a maniac till police patrol stopped me around Freiburg. I saw myself in jail.”

“Holly fuck, are you alright?”

She isn't. Her eyes are exhausted, and her knuckles are injured. You want to step up and bring the first aid kit. She predicts your action and grabs your arms. Gently but firmly. You succumb. As much as you want to treat her wounds, the thought of not being in her closest proximity just for the second makes you faint.

“It went well, I suppose. They fined me for the fast ride, but no one mentioned felony.”

“I heard some girls talking in the locker room. They said Weinberg striker slipped in the shower and broke her nose. But It was you. Why did you--”

“She’s lucky I didn’t kill her. Bitch. So how are you feeling?”

“Mad. Sad. Neglected. Or I felt neglected before I knew you brawl someone because of me.”

“And your chest?”

Your chest is much better, but it still hurts. Not because of the kick, though.

“Vic, what’s going on between you and Taylor?”

“Except talking with her about my almost break down because of your first competitive game after broken ribs? Nothing unusual. And I promise you I won’t be offended by your insane assumption if you never bring it up again.”

“Why are you not talking about it with me?”

“Because distraction before the season opener is the last thing you need? At least from your loving girlfriend. You are probably distracted enough by girls trying to get into your pants and their girlfriends knocking you down.”

She doesn’t sound accusing, but you feel guilty as charged.

“I slept with her once, last year. I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t even remember her. And when it clicked, I tried to avoid her, but she was persistent. I swear Vic, I didn’t encourage anything. I have a goddess of beauty in you. No girl can compare to you. I have no reason to seek them.”

“I know, Chloe. I trust you. It’s annoying to see them around you, but I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“And I feel the same about you, so why you keep obsessing about Taylor?”

“Dunno. You’re so close.”

“Friends.”

Maybe it’s time to come clean. No only to Victoria but more importantly to yourself. No matter how strong your love is, it won’t survive Barcelona/Berlin situation. You went through this before. You take a deep breath and separate your body from hers. If you are going to say this, you cannot be under her touch, her spell.

“Look, Victoria. I-I don’t think I can go to Barcelona with you. It’s not my thing. It’s not my dream. The city is weird. The houses look weird, people talk weird. It’s like they screaming at each other all the time. And I can’t play for Barcelona. It would be an ultimate betrayal if they were actually interested in me. Which they aren’t.”

You always considered her as a stronger one. Tougher. That’s why you miss how much your words affect her. And also the not touching attitude.

“I figure that much, Chloe. You and Barcelona won’t work, but we find a way.”

“But I’m sure Taylor would. She would go anywhere with you, and you could take pictures together and talk about shoes for hours and be all excited about Gaudi’s whatever. And if not her, there will be plenty of young women or men in there, who will be astonished by your skills and by your beauty. One of them catches your attention sooner or later.”

“Why are you saying that? Why I would care about any stupid loser trying to catch my attention?”

“Because I won’t be there. And everyone knows long distance relationships don’t work. Yeah, everyone says they are different, but no one really is. And that’s what I saw today on the parking lot in front of the stadium.”

“Why are you saying that? Do you w--” “Is this a break-up?”

There is pure hysteria in her voice, and suddenly you understand, she completely misread the point.

“No. No, no, no, no, no.”

You take her in your arms, squeezing her tightly. She sobs, and despite your effort to stop the tremor, it’s worsening.

“No break-up. Never. Not happening.”

Damn. Damn it. How it is that such a simple thing as communication fails so badly sometimes? You’d burst into tears if she didn’t need you so much right now. She must feel how much you love her.

“We belong together babe, just you and me.”

You kiss her hair. Her forehead, her weeping eyes. You kiss her everywhere in the reach. She finally seems to calm down.  The sobbing stops. Her head lies on your shoulder quietly..

“Fuck, Chloe,” she mutters, “don’t ever do this again.”

The hysteria is gone for sure, but she is still shattered. Well, fuck you too. You also pretty damn sure you’ll try your best to not ever do _that again._ No matter if it means being knocked down, making her feel like you’re breaking up or whatever else she has in mind. The words forming in you your head to your own surprise it’s not the promise she seeks.

“Come to Berlin with me.”

Oh, fucking great.

“Huh?”

But maybe it’s for the best to do this. That’s your superpower, after all. Telling the first thing that comes to your mind without thinking about consequences.

“I know it’s stupid and selfish and I shouldn’t ask, I shouldn’t even think about asking. And I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry I did. Vic, I can’t lose you. Shit. When it happened with Max, it was horrendous. And if it’ll happen with you, it‘ll kill me.”

She moves and looks you in the eye. There is no fear in there anymore. Just curiosity.

“I don’t know what to do. Playing for Potsdam is my dream, and Art school in Barcelona is yours, and fucking two thousand kilometres stand between those two.”

She stares at you like forever, and you’re dying for her to say anything. But in the, in the end, she doesn’t. She just rolls on the other side of the bed and for this time you are facing her back. Fuck. Panic. More panic. But she’s not leaving. She’s fucking staying, thanks to the Goddess. That’s her superpower on the contrary. Theatrical departures. So maybe you haven’t screwed up royally if she’s still here. You’d be amused by the thought of how many times she did that or attempted and came back, eventually, If the panic weren’t crawling under your skin. Before it can boil, Victoria’s husky voice cools it down.

“Chloe don’t be a quitter. It cannot be settled right now, it’s for sure, but you can spoon your girlfriend at least and show her, how much you love her. You’ve started it already, so just finish, will you?”

Yeah, Victoria is definitely the clever one. And, she got the point. Your body embraces hers, and you feel better immediately. She takes your hand and brings it to her lips. Its where it stays. It’s not settled as she said, but you are appeased. You’re connected, she’s here with you. Nothing else matters. Maybe your needs are too simple, but for now, it’s enough. And Victoria fucking beat the shit out of someone because of you. That’s epic.

“We’ll find the way how to be at the same place next year, Chloe. Till then can we not be bothered by it?”

You were ready to fall asleep, but her words suddenly make your senses are all fired up.

“It’s close to pretending, and it‘s not your thing, but, hey... If it’s too much for now, we can face it later, can’t we?”

“I suppose, we can, as long as you love me. As long as you with me.”

She doesn’t answer. Not with words. But she turns to you, and her kiss is more than any word ever could be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene where Victoria beat the shit out of the chick was inspired by "Katie Fucking Fitch" scene from Skins.
> 
> Either locks are too large, or the key is too small is a reference to Alice adventures in wonderland.


	32. The bitch is back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don’t recall the chapter 3 (which you probably don’t it was published a year ago) check it. Something important happened back there.

**Wednesday, February 26, 2014,**

**12:09 am., Willstätt Academy, Willstätt, Germany**

You’re in the bathroom checking one last time if you look impeccable. You thought your Bitch Golden Era was over. You wanted it to be over. You were more than satisfied with being just Chloe Price girlfriend outside the spotlight in her warm embrace. The ninja kicking creep and her whore girlfriend got the best of you, though. It’s a force unleashed, and there is no way to stop it. Especially not in the moments like these. You can’t just pretend nothing happened. Someone has to pay for damage that has been done. No one will hurt your loved ones and get away with it. Steph Gingrich is no exception. Damn, you should notice sooner. But it must happen after the game. They both weren’t at school on Monday. Taylor still hasn’t confirmed it officially, but you’re sure now. Everything you’ve learnt from yesterday evening proves you are right. You called her because of chemistry homework. Chloe was occupied playing Diablo III, so you didn't want to interrupt. She said it was an emergency and Demon Hunter needed the help of the Barbarian. That should be a first warning sign. The Demon Hunter supposed to hang out with her girlfriend, not yours.

Then Taylor’s voice was all weird and raspy in the phone, and when you asked about it, she said it’s a minor flu. You almost dismissed it but with Chloe, all fired up playing Barbarian you decided to check on it, so kissed your girl goodbye and headed to Christensen’s place. Chloe wasn’t overly excited about letting you go, but _The Demon Hunter_ was in extreme need of a sidekick. Now you know your BFF’s suffering had nothing to do with the flu. She cried a river. It was apparent from the moment she opened the door. In no time, the Über Bitch mode was on, again. You hugged her tightly, promised cold revenge and planned to leave and find the cause of her torment. She stopped you. She knew. She must see it in your eyes that you were going to hurt the person she probably still unconditionally love. Her hand grasped yours, and her puffy eyes begged you to stay. _Girls night? Movies and ice-cream._ That’s what she said eventually. If you’ve learnt anything in the last couple of months, it’s that if you care about someone, you should support them instead of doing anything against their wishes. So you decided to suppress your sociopathic tendencies.

For the moment. It took a lot of ice-cream and even more Veronica Mars episodes till Taylor fell asleep in your arms. It was too late for rage spree, and she looked so vulnerable it felt wrong to abandon her. So you only texted Chloe good night. She replied immediately, wide awake probably still playing Diablo alongside the Demon Hunter. You weren’t thinking much about how it’ll affect you two, but you didn’t doubt she had no idea Steph and Taylor broke up. The morning was a bit awkward because you woke up to someone snuggling into you. It was even more awkward for your BFF when she realised you’re not the person she dreamt off. Mrs. Christensen believed the fake flu story and let her daughter stay at home. Before you left to school, she swore everything’s alright _(trying to hold tears unsuccessfully)_ and made you promise to leave Steph alone. You lied. It hasn't been easy to avoid Chloe all day, but you knew she would stand up for her friend even when this person is a fucking heartbreaker. You texted her something lame about being busy with chemistry but you kind of new it will work. The upcoming champions league quarterfinals have her attention.

You look at your watch. It’s time. You use a rubber glove and take out the gory squishy object that looks like a human heart from the plastic bag. It’s pigs, but only the butcher would be able to tell for sure. You leave bathrooms with heart in your hand and head to Steph’s locker. You reach it when she does. No signs of sadness, no puffy eyes. Bitch. She doesn’t even notice you. Her mind is somewhere else. She opens the locker, but before she can do anything, the gory heart ends in there.

“This is what you’ve done to Taylor, bitch. Ripped her heart from the chest and tossed it in the trash." You say coldly. “And I won’t stop till you wish you were born in different reality. And when I am done with you…..

“I know your pathetic kind.”

There is fury in her eyes. The fury you never saw before. But if she thinks she’s a match for you, she is greatly mistaken.

“You don’t know a shit about me but you will soon enough.”

“You think you can do everything because your daddy is district attorney. Everyone adores you, follows you, but you are only using them. They mean nothing you. The people like you only see us as items. Expandable items on your road to whatever you fucking want. You lie and cheat, fuck with your teacher and drug dealer, make out with your best friend because you think it’s cool because you can.”

“I have no idea what the fuck are you talking about Psycho girl but be sure I will make your life miserable because you made Taylor miserable.”

You feel a hand on your shoulder squeezing it softly.

“Vic, baby, maybe you should step down. You are overreacting a bit, and Steph is obviously losing her shits being itsy bitsy delirious confusing you for her ex-girlfriend. Most likely.” You hear Chloe whispering, but it sounds very distant.

“The little I know about her, she was a cheater, and her dad is a district attorney unlike yours.” Unfortunately, you’ve reached the point where you cannot be calmed, and you can’t care less why Steph has become delirious. In the meantime, she adds some more confusion.

“You dare to accuse me of causing this mess? You did this.” She focuses her crazy eyes on your girl and provokes your anger even more.

“You deserve better Chloe than some attention whore, who is cheating on you.”

“Steph, how about we…” Chloe tries to push her away, but she picks the phone from the pocket and mindlessly waves with it.

“How about you watch this. It’s from last week.”

The video she launches is from your favourite club. You haven’t been there for quite a time. You totally forgot about what happened on the night of the 7th October a long time ago. What are you seeing is like a different lifetime. Alternative universe. Chloe almost loses her life signs. She looks as pale as in hospital after the concussion. But there something else in her expression, something very troubling.

“Chloe, listen. I did not cheat on you, and the video is bulshit.”

You say vigorously. She staggers to her feet swaying a little and makes herself disappear in the bathroom. You want to follow her, but the rage is stronger. You grab Steph’s shirt with bloody rubber glove hand and push her into the locker.

“Where did you get this, bitch?”

“Why? Are you afraid someone holds more of your dirty secrets?”

“I have no dirty secrets, you crazy psycho! And ain’t you supposed to be a hackerwoman or something? This video is not from  last week and whoever waited this long to reveal it must be even more insane than you.”

You’d punch her, but for a second you consider she could be a victim as well in someone’s crazy game. That thought saves her, but you still don’t trust her. You push her to the locker harder.

“One more thing. Stay away from Taylor, or I'll kill YOU. I’m not joking.”

Chloe’s dismissal tastes like the worst fucking betrayal. She looked at you with hatred and disgust so enormous, you can’t believe it’s the same girl you love. After everything that you’ve been through she’d still think you did something like that to her. That feeling almost stops you from chasing her. But even when you know you did nothing wrong, there is nothing you should be sorry about, you try to suppress your pride and follow Chloe to the bathroom. Because you love her and you’ve made a promise. You desperately want to believe she's about to do the same thing. Nevertheless, your instinct is telling you otherwise.

\------------------------------------------

Some other days you would love to have this discussion with lads. You would _politely_ explain to them that neither Messi nor Ronaldo has what it takes. They are both whiny pussies. Iniesta or Phillip Lahm are the real deal. But you cannot make yourself care. Because you miss Victoria and wonder why she didn’t stop by the whole morning. She just texted you she’s busy with studying. And something's wrong with Steph for sure. You do no doubt she was awake whole night and played Diablo. It was written all over her exhausted face when you bumped into her before the first class. Then someone pats on your shoulder.

“Chloe, your royal bitch is going full mental. Maybe you should check on her before Kellerman shows up.”

You find Victoria at Steph’s locker with something that looks like a human heart in her hand. Steph is losing her shits being delusional, Vic is raging.  But the only thing you will remember from this, the only thing you think you’ll ever remember is the images of Victoria making out with Taylor Christensen like it was no tomorrow.

The bathroom is empty when you enter. Thank fuck. You’re not in control of your body anymore. You are unable to take a breath. You don’t see a thing. Your insides are clenched in massive invisible pliers causing you tremendous pain, and all you can hear is a deafening intangible buzz. The grip is fastening, your guts twist. Somehow you break the stall door and kneel in front of the toilet bowl just in time. You ate in the morning, so it’s only the liquid. Revolting taste of gastric acid in your mouth, in your nose, is just the smallest part of falling apart.

The total annihilation spreads quickly from the centre of your chest through your whole body. A couple of another forceful expulsion of the content of your stomach follow.  When nothing more left you surprisingly feel a bit better. Something in your brain tries to convince you, maybe it didn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. It must be a dream. A nightmare of the worst kind. You head to the sink and splash your face. You’re nauseous, bewildered and everything around is foggy. The dream. This can’t be real. You actually believe that for a very brief moment. Till Victoria appears. You see her reflection in the mirror. The bloody glove on her right hand. The resentment corrupting her face. There is no dream. She indeed kissed Taylor Christensen. Suddenly it’s the only clear thing in your mind.

“Chloe, whatever you think, it’s not the case.”

“So you didn’t kiss her?”

“I did, but--”

You turn with your fists clenching. Shaking. They are begging you to hit something. Someone.

“Did you fuck her? Did you like it?”

You shout. The only way how to not crumble completely is to engage something so powerful and intense that will beat this feeling of ultimate betrayal. Hate.

“I didn’t--”

“You, bitch! How could you do this?”

You hate Victoria Chase.

“I did not--”

“How could you do this to me? You’ve made me fall in love with you for what? For amusement? You are a monster.”

Your sharp words fill the whole bathroom. There is more intending to leave your mouth, but something in you is still able to hold it back.

“Listen, Chloe. The video is from 7th October. Think carefully about that day, will you?”

Fuck her, fuck her empty words. Nothing happened on 7th October. You want to tell her to fuck off, but your memory is trying to go back to that day instead.

“I do not have to explain myself, and I’m not going to apologise for what I did when you despised me. But for your information, I did not fuck Taylor.”

You close your eyes and desperately want to remember anything about October. Unfortunately, you only see something that cannot be unseen, anymore.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t fucking believe you.”

It’s done. You are done trying to remember a shit. You just want Victoria out of here.

“Are you doubting me because of some 10 seconds video from 7th October? Chloe, I love you. You are the first person who made me feel this way. I gave you all of me, you saw true Victoria Chase, and if you doubt my devotion to you, then we have a problem.”

“We do. We do! You are three seconds from fucking her on that video Vic. Don’t tell me such greed just disappear like it has never been there. You...You… lie to me.”

“It was a fucking MDMA, for fuck sake.” Now, she shouts, too.

“Stop toying with me at least and tell the fucking truth!  Did you enjoy your twisted game?”

She makes a bold move. She takes a step towards you. The shaking intensifies. Your left hand grabs your right and hold it in the steady grip. You cannot look at her anymore, so you just stare at the floor. Hate hasn’t conquered everything, yet but it’s powerful right now.

“Don’t fucking get close to me, Vic or--.”

You see her shoes stepping back.

“Just-- Just--”

“I’ll speak with you when you calm down, Chloe. Don’t forget about 7th October.”

She says, and then the door opens and closes. Finally, Victoria is gone. You just broke every single promise you ever gave to her, and you don’t even realise.  It was you who betrayed her not otherwise, but that’s not what you feel. Not what you see. You slowly decline to your knees and bury your face into your hands. Sobbing, probably. Or just losing your shits. That’s how Dana finds you after the moment. Or hours.

“It’s going to be alright, Chloe.” She hugs you and helps you stand. “Come on, Trevor will take you home.”

  



	33. The girl with the raven tattoo

**Friday, February 28, 2014,**

**6:09 pm., Chase Manor, Strasburg, France**

Albert let you in through the main gate, but instead of heading to the entrance door you’ve ended sitting on the curb next to the garage playing with little pebbles for good ten minutes.  He told you Victoria, is not at home (neither the Duchess he accentuated) but you can wait for her. _Inside the house Miss Price. I meant inside._ That’s what he said when realised you’re not planning to leave your curb spot. You just muttered that you’re fine. He brought you a blanket you keep ignoring and let you be. The sun is already down, and if not for the extra shining exterior lights outside the manor, it would be completely dark. Plus it’s freezing, and you only wear jeans and leather jacket. Shit. You must be the biggest masochist, but you cannot stay away from the royal daughter. Steph _the hackerwoman_ already figured out that the kissing video indeed is from 7th October.

The day you both were broken. You wanted to leave your whole life in Willstätt behind rather than work with Victoria Chase, and she hated you more than ever because she thought you ruined everything she dreamt of. You both suffered that day, but something was different. When you have your family around to show love and support she had drugs and obedient BFF barbie. The good news is your girlfriend didn’t cheat on you because you weren’t together at the time. The bad news is she ended in Taylor’s embrace when she was down, and according to the vid, she enjoyed it greatly. You tried. You are trying. That’s why you came. You love Victoria. But the rage and the jealousy are overwhelming and gets the best of you. When you close your eyes all you can see is the girl you adore devouring a body of another woman. It’s killing you. You wanted to do a lot of crazy things this week because of that. Hit Taylor, humiliate Victoria in public and such. But you didn’t. You were actually pretty civil and talk with Vic a couple of times about some school bulshit. No touching, no mentioning of the video. Still, if one word could describe how you have been feeling recently, it would be conflicted. You want that dull pain, the hole in your chest to be gone. You desperately want back what you had had before you saw that stupid video.

On the other hand, you want Victoria to feel what you feel. You want to make her suffer because she made you suffer. You want someone to pay. The pain and the rage rule out the cooler head. You hear the grand gate opening and spot the BMW s 1000 RR motorbike with blazefire saber pattern. It stops next to you. The driver wears a black suit and helmet of the same colour. You would recognise the person even if the suit weren't so tight around the body you perfectly know. You are still stunned by her beauty when she takes off the helmet.

“It’s cold, Chloe. You shouldn’t be sitting on the ground.”

She fucking dares to tell what you shouldn’t be doing when she just came back from the ride in these crazy conditions. Something could happen to her. _Damn!_ You decide to do nothing and stick to you sacred place on the curb. She parks her bike in the garage and comes back. When you refuse to move, she sits down next to you.

“You obviously don't plan to come inside or talk with me.” She states and puts the blanket on you. The urge to throw it away is strong, but your body yearns the warmth. Of the blanket and of her touch.

“And I bet you have a nice curb in front of your house too. If you wanted curb camping, you could stay home. So...”

She rubs your back to make you warmer, and it feels nice. You almost forget about her tongue stuck in Taylor's mouth.

“I promised to go with you to the royal party. I keep my promises.”

She stares at you till you cannot stand it anymore and look down. For the moment you think she’s going to leave you there alone in coldness. Of course, she doesn’t. She put an arm around your waist and helps you stand up.

“Let’s go inside.”

Before you move, she pulls you closer and makes you snuggle into her embrace. When she kisses your hair softly, you tend to believe again that you belong together.  You’re heading to her room. It’s nice to be inside but having her around being loving and tender is even better. If you could just forget about everything that happened this week. Maybe you can. Once in her room, the picture on her wall reminds you it's not so bad. It's the one from Saarbrucken game. You have a normal conversation for the first time back then. She opened to you a bit. You did the same for her and didn’t feel like she is an utmost bitch. You stare at the wall and then on the nightstand where lies another reminder of your time together. The infamous selfie was taken a couple of days ago. She really is into taking pictures. Yeah, that’s your girl. _Still yours, though?_ A couple of weeks ago she was appalled to admit she has feelings for you. Now she has your picture on her wall, literally. And now you doubt her again. But is it really her who you distrust or is it yourself? Lost in thoughts you’ve not noticed she took the leather jacket soaked with coldness away and helped you to dress hoodie. Although you recognise it as one of yours, it smells like Victoria. It's become a habit. She keeps stealing your pieces of clothes and wears them then, probably sniffs them too. You smile and sense her standing behind you. Her arms are wrapping gently around your body, and you are one step from accepting everything is going to be alright, eventually. You are about to turn and seal the deal with the kiss when you spot another framed picture. Next to the large TV screen. The picture where Victoria is all happy with someone. With someone who’s not you. And suddenly, it’s all going to shit. It’s out of your hands.

* * *

 

**Friday, February 28, 2014,**

**6:09 pm., Route du Rohrschollen, not far from Strasburg, France**

The road is narrow and bumpy, and there is no street light around you, but you don’t give a damn speeding up your BMW s 1000 RR motorbike with blazefire saber pattern. There is a Rhine river on your left and a little piece of wilderness on your right, but even if you did pay attention, you wouldn’t see a shit. The bloody darkness is one of the reasons. The massive numbness is the other. You were unhinged when saw Chloe being knocked down on Sunday, you became a vengeful bitch when realised Taylor's heart was broken, but now you feel nothing. You’re back behind the mirror. Forgotten the taste and smell of the world you left behind. You were looking forward to going with Chloe to the Hohenzollern castle and show all of those royal pricks how to live, to be actually alive, without preposterous patterns that belong to the middle age. You have the perfect dress for you and for her. And the sketch of her body painting. You thought she’s going to love it. None of it matters now. You speed up a bit more knowing the road will turn soon, so you are going to need a hell of the skill to not end in the trench. It’s so so, but you are able to manage. You hoped, it’ll light up some fire inside you, the tremendous risk, the closeness of the catastrophe, but it didn’t. The outside coldness cannot compare the nothingness inside you. You talked today in school. And yesterday, too. Chloe and you. Well, talk. There were words involved, but it was mostly noise. Rambling about unimportant school shits. She tried to pretend she doesn’t hate you. She failed. You forced yourself to feel something. You didn’t. For a moment it seemed the temperature in the room decreased significantly. Same with the level of luminosity. You reach the Chase mansion driveway and come to the conclusion these vain thoughts will bring you nothing. After you pushed the secret button on your bike, the large gate is opening. There is no way you are going to the uncle’s birthday party tomorrow so you try to figure out what could you do tonight. And on the weekend. And with the rest of your life. Nothing comes to your mind. Nothing that could hold your attention. Nothing excites you. Again, there is nothing. As Prince Feisal would say _There is nothing in the desert and no man needs nothing._ Except, Lawrence went to the desert, anyway… You hum and the engine of the bike roars again when you go through the gate. MDMA, LSD, Jack Daniels… those could make you--

Chloe.

She sits there on the curb in front of the garage. It’s only a small sound. The intensity is also very low. But you hear your heart beats again. Not only, hear. It’s like your blood is bid to melt after being frozen. It’s nothing huge. Just a little warmness inside your chest spreading slowly. Definitely not a fire. Maybe a ray of light after the harsh cold night. It’s a nice change though. When the warmness reaches the tip of your fingers, you release the deathly grip and hop down from BMW s RR 1000. Chloe is shaking from cold. She only wears a leather jacket and jeans. You take off your helmet and it’s like the part of your impenetrable armour was removed. As you take a breath, icy air cause a mild sharpening pain in your lungs. Then it gets to you. You’ve just finally felt something. Your body expressed a first physical reaction to the outside world after two days. First the spark of the heat, then pain. The numbness has been breached.

“It’s cold, Chloe. You shouldn’t be sitting on the ground.”

You say, and it’s how you mean it. There is no fake politeness in your words anymore. It’s to be decided if it’s prudence or love what’s coming back to life, but hey! It’s something. Chloe doesn’t look at you. Well, in your eyes. She stares at your biker boots, mumbling something. It sounds like

_the one who puts herself in danger, riding the bike in freezing darkness  is telling me what I should do_

She doesn’t realise it was said aloud, you’re sure of that. The warmness is rising, the beating of your heart is not a distant echo, anymore. You park the bike into the garage and want to think about what should be the next step. What this situation means? In the end, you don’t think much. You just sit next to Chloe and talk about something. Your mouth is opening and closing, so you are probably talking. But your brain is not what leads your actions. The warmness is. Your limbs have become vital as you realise you have a heart in your chest, after all. The heart that impels your blood to make you feel alive. Not only that. You put the blanket on Chloe and rub her back. There is no conscious effort involved. Just a reflex. She doesn’t flinch, nor she nestles deeper in your arms.

“I promised to go with you to the royal party. I keep my promises.”

She says, and you stare at her, in her eyes. There is no hate in them. No promise either though. That’s when you realise another sense of yours is activated. Her scent touches in you and reactivates all those scent related memories. Only after the moment her words are decoded and bring another piece of the past.

_I promise, Vic. I promise I’ll listen to you, I’ll trust your word, and I won’t leave you. This I swear._

She said in the backseat of the silver Audi, the day Richard W. Chase almost ruined everything. You believed her. Do you still believe her? Your addiction to her fragrance appears to be stronger than numbness. Your hand slips around her waist.

“Let’s go inside.”

You help her stand, and she ends in your embrace. Was it you who pulled her closer or was it her who sought your shelter? It causes a minor tremble inside you. When in your room you help Chloe to change her clothes to something warmer.  And it makes you warmer, too. Every touch, every breath in her proximity. You’re definitely coming back to life. You almost believe that when she’s turning up her lips dangerously close to yours. The last wall is about to be torn down. It’s not, in the end. Chloe’s eyes lay on something behind you. She pushes you away and heads to that thing. You see her holding the frame with the picture of you and Taylor.  Her free hand is clenching, the other one is shaking insanely. Instead of saying something which was obviously her intention she bites her lip. Her loathing is back. So is your numbness.

“Go ahead, Chloe. Hurt me if you must. Blame me. They all do, so why you should be any different. It’s my fault. Everything. It always is. Duchess’ fucked up life. Every average lazy nobody failure is on me too. Because I am a rich royal bitch. I’ve never had to do anything in my life and take everything for granted. I’m responsible for all bad shits that ever happened in this world. Right?”

It should sound emotional, but it doesn’t. Your speech is flat. Cause what you said is reality stripped to the bare facts.

“You understand nothing. I cannot unsee what I saw. How much you wanted her. It’s tearing me apart. So stop being a fucking coward and admit it!”

Oh, but what your side of this situation lacks, Chloe’s has an excess of. She shouts. And toss the frame into the wall.

“You should do yourself a favour and stop being a masochist.”

Did you intend to mock her or support her? You’re not sure, but it sounds like mocking when you repeat the sentence in your head.

“This can’t work, Victoria. I simply can’t match your expectations. I can’t.”

She says can’t three times, and these statements start to have a very concrete outline in your head. You had doubts before, fears that haunted you but for the first time, you actually believe those can become real. She can see it in your eyes, that you are ready to accept her farewell and leaves the room. Just like that. So this is it. This is how it ends. The love that felt so strong is gone. If Chloe lets it go like it was nothing, she never was good enough to start with. Damn. Damn her! No. You won’t let this happen. You won’t be an idle observer. You are not some wanker who always complain about the cruel world. You do not wait for God or heaven or luck to stand by your side. You are fucking Victoria Chase. You act. You work hard for what you want, not wish for it.

“...Chloe if you leave, the message will be very clear. You are not interested in fixing this fucked up mess.”

Despite your sky-high confidence three seconds ago, once you’re in the hall, your voice is cracking. _What if she’ll leave? What if she’ll stay?_ Without knowing the answer, you grab her hand and continue.

“You made a promise. You said you won’t leave me. You said you’ll listen and trust my word. For what it takes nothing will convince me Chloe Price is the woman who breaks her promises.”

She is still reluctant to face you, but you're not finished.

“Whatever you’ll decide I will find out who caused this madness, who sent the video and I will deal with them very Victoria Chase style.”

And then she turns to you, and you drop her hand. There is a white mark where you touched it. The grip was too heavy.  You both look at it and unconsciously take a step back.

“I’ll make them pay because they hurt Taylor. The sweetest girl Taylor who sought for true love since she was 5 and her heart was broken right after she believed she found it.”

Chloe sighs and squeezes her eyelids. She is still jealous and angry. With you. But now she is also angry and very disappointed with herself. Or at least you want to believe it’s what you see in her eyes.

“And I’ll make them pay for fucking up with your head because it wasn’t the real Chloe Price in my room, was it?”

“What if it was?” She can’t hide, she’s full of doubts. Damn, Chloe. If she can’t trust herself how can you?

“Was it?” There is like one-meter distance between you, but it feels like million. She keeps silence.

“Was it, Chloe?” You feel your eyes sting.

“Vic, maybe you should’ve have chosen Taylor in the first place. Maybe I knew that all along and kept lying to myself that I am good enough for you. And maybe now when I saw you with her I know I’m not good enough for you.”

There is a little voice back in your head telling you to drop this. Convincing you that she’s right. That this connection between you is fucked up beyond repair and the more you’ll love her the more you’ll suffer.

“Maybe you did fuck up...” Regardless of the vicious voice, your hand is itching to touch hers. It won’t, though. “...but know this. It never was a choice. No one before made me feel like I belong with them. You did. So bring your shits together go shower and meet me in my room. We have a tattoo to work on.”

She nods, and you sigh with relief. It doesn’t mean you’re good, but at least you both want to be. Fucking hell. That was some outburst. The fire you were missing, the real heat you were waiting for. Unfortunately, it’s fading away quickly. Nothing is resolved, yet. The numbness is ready to regain control of your body and mind. At least, now you know it’s not invincible.

* * *

 

**Saturday, March 1, 2014,**

**11:21 am., Chase Manor, Strasburg, France**

“You look magnificent, Miss Price.”

Says the stylish woman, probably hired by Victoria, who has been helping you all morning with the dress, the make-up, the hairstyle and every other shit needed for a perfect look. She would probably say you look magnificent even if wear panda bear costume because she’s paid for that. Nevertheless, looking at the mirror you have to admit, you indeed look stunning. Black dress with V-neck beads, side split and open back fits just right with your raven bodypainting. Victoria did wonderful job with both. Picking the dress and raven. You’d like her to be here with you, though. Not some no name woman giving you compliments. But if she actually were here, you’d probably wanted her gone. That Fucking brain of yours. You must catch this _conflicted phenomena_ from Victoria. Usually, it’s her way how to torture herself. You wish the things between you just could be settled. That was your intention, when you came, yesterday. If only you could suppress that insane outbursts of jealousy. If only Victoria could say something to eradicate it completely. Yeah, it’s an undeniable fact that she didn’t cheat, but since you both saw the video, she didn’t show a single sign she regrets it. She was genuinely offended when you were pissed at her. And then when you tried to approach her, she was nothing but detached. Like she didn’t fucking care you are trying to make it right.

“Are you alright?”

Your fashion consultant notices your inner struggle, but her concerns are based on her paycheck, no doubt. Even if it wasn’t, this matter should not be discussed with some stranger. You should talk to Victoria. For fuck sake, why are you standing here and not seeking her, then?

“I’m fine. Trendy Lady. Thanks for your help, you can leave now.”

She’s not eager, but you use one of your be gone expressions, so she obeys. Which is not as good as you thought it will be because now you can freely fill your head with vain thoughts about your relationship with Victoria and about how she actually doesn’t want to be with you. Like Max. Except for the situation with Max is entirely different, because there were 1000 kilometres between you back then and you were both young and unprepared and you never really expressed your feelings towards her and fuck.. Victoria basically begged you to stay, yesterday when you basically told her to fuck off and broke up with her. But why she was so restricted when working on body paint? _As if you weren’t, Chloe. Damn. Damn it._

You were craving for her touch but at the same time fighting the urge to spit at her with _back off and don’t  ever touch me again._ And then she asked you if you want to sleep in the guest room and you said, of course. You didn’t even try to express intention to stay with her. But how could you after 3 hours of absolute awkwardness. _Shit_. This needs to stop. You two have to talk, and it has to happen ASAP. You leave the room and head right to Victoria’s. The door is open. _Damn, Chloe. So now when you are here, what are you going to say?_ You stumble and stop in front of the threshold. There are two persons inside. None of them facing the door. You’re out of their sight for now.

“I have your saber, my Lady.”

 Albert gives a ceremonial saber to Victoria. Well it’s more like a sword. You gulp. It’s a replica of _blazefire saber_ from Final Fantasy XIII. But the saber/sword doesn’t make your knees weak. Her dress does. She definitely got inspired by Final Fantasy because she wears a dress that looks precisely like _Knight of Etro robe._

“Don’t call me that, Albert.”

“Should I say Knight of Etro then, M’am?” The old man seems to be more thoughtful than meets the eye because he is aware of the whole Final Fantasy infatuation as well.

“That’s much better.”

“Do you think, Chloe will like the dress?”

You fucking love the dress. And you love the warmness in Victoria’s voice.

“Oh, fuck the dress. I will become my mother eventually, won’t I? I should do what Richard W. Chase did. I should let Chloe go.”

 _No, no, no._ Suddenly you want to scream, and it shocks you. How much you want to beg her to not let you go. You stay silent, though. It’s Albert who speaks.

“This woman, The Duchess von Liechtenstein she seeks to destroy all hope and bring an end to the future. Thought the battle might be endless, you’ll never give up. Etro has chosen us, her champions. And we cannot fail.”

Victoria smiles, you don’t see, but you know because you smile too hearing the familiar line from the familiar video game.

“I would never have guessed you’re a fan of video gaming, especially not Final Fantasy.”

“I am not. Nevertheless, the young Duke Frederik enjoys this particular story a lot.”

“He does, doesn’t he?”

“But there is someone he admires even more than heroine from Final Fantasy. You, Victoria.”

“You’re right. So fuck the Duchess. She can fuck off. I don’t give a fuck about the obnoxious party.  I’m not going. I’m done with this family for good. I’ll go find Chloe and we finally-- ”

You are not going to find out what Victoria intended to do with you because Albert interrupts. His voice grave.

“‘Twas your mother, the Duchess, who send the video to Miss Gingrich. And she also already took the Cheshire cat with her to Hohenzollern castle, as an hostage, so you would not consider to pass.”

You would expect to have an urge to kill the Duchess right away after such reveal. But there is something else in you, something more mature. The more their conversation flows, the more you feel it.

“But, how…”

“Your father has been watching you, your whole life. He hired Mr. Madsen to keep you safe.”

“Who?”

“The driver. So he makes sure videos like that never comes public. But he keeps everything. Your mother knew and stole the video. She wanted you and Miss Price to break up. But more importantly, she wanted you to know it was her who's behind it. She is a very thorough woman. She left clues for me because she knew I will tell you.”

Victoria is visibly shaken. So are you.

“But-- but-- Why she would want me to know?”

“She believes, I presume, that because of this you understand fully what it means to disobey her. She believes you’ll accept, she is in control, not you. And if you dare to go against her wishes…”

“She’ll destroy all hope and bring the end to the future, I guess.”

Now, her voice is steady and serene. As she came to the understanding of this whole mess. Or accepted the defeat.  

“But as I said, we cannot fail. Can we, Miss Price?”

Albert looks at you as he knew you were there all the time. Victoria turns too, you have no idea what she thinks though because her face is super straight.

“How much did you hear?”

“Everything.”

You say quietly. Not only you heard everything now you get everything. This is all your fault. Victoria warned you something like this could happen. She knew the Duchess will never accept her disobedience. She asked you for the thoughtful approach, but you didn’t listen. You already did fail her so how can you make this right? Wish you could say something, apologise, encourage her. The words are stuck in your throat. So you just stare at each other till Albert leaves you alone. You forgot about Taylor, about stupid jealousy about your freaking overcharging mind. You just desperately want to fix this. To make Victoria happy again. If only you knew how.

“I-I need to save my cat. I-I would like you to-- If you could-- Would you come with--”

“I’m with you, Vic. I-” _promise_ you want to say, but it would be out of place. You promised her so many things and failed. “--I’m with you.” So this statement is as good as it gets.

“Great. Good.” She smiles, and you feel a hint of real relief after days of torture. “But whatever happens, do not confront the Duchess openly, please.”

You smile too, shyly but she must know it will be impossible if, “the Duchess touches is you, and I ruin her dress with red wine, what about that?”

“Ok, then. Red wine is the only acceptable weapon.”

So this is it. _The battle royale_ is finally here. As much as you yearn to be a barbarian engaging brutal force and frontal assault, this is not a video game. This is not what you can do the best. You have to trust Victoria to handle it and support her. Support.

  



	34. The girl with the saber

**Saturday, March 1, 2014,**

**6:49 pm., Hohenzollern Castle, Germany**

The drive was smooth and mostly wordless. You still don’t fully realise insanity behind the Duchess' video plot, but the fact she is behind it doesn’t surprise you at all, actually. If she didn’t steal your cat, you wouldn’t come here. She’s always been a vicious mental woman, but this is her lowest point. The valet opens the door on your side. Without saying anything. You express your intention to leave the car without his help. There is no doubt he’s experienced with his job because he also knows you don’t want him to help Chloe either.  There is something you want from him, though. You subtly give him two hundred Euro bill and car keys.

“I may leave early, be ready.”

He nods. You round the car, but before you can reach the door it opens, and your companion gets out by herself. She shivers in the cold weather and adjusts the dress. Damn, she looks mesmerising. And you did an outstanding job with body painting. She would rule this place if the video incident didn’t happen. But now she seems uneasy, uncomfortable. Fucking Duchess. She considered two options. You are really in love and letting Chloe go because you don’t want her to be hurt this way ever again. Or you being thoughtful and accept you cannot defy her will. She didn’t consider the third. You are done with her games and schemes and wickedness. Maybe you’re not ready for the third option, and perhaps you'll never be but unlike a couple of months ago now you know, this option exists.

“Shall we go?”

“Yeah.”

She finally looks at you, even tries to give you a reassuring smile but in the end, it’s just a nervous one. When she realises smile won’t work, she turns and moves. You catch with her and walk side by side to the Castle entrance. It could be such an awesome evening. You were looking forward to show these royal pricks that the most amazing girl in the world picked YOU from all of the people despite your twisted roots. But it might not be true anymore. You fight the urge to get the hell out of here, even if it means Cheshire cat stays as Duchess’ hostage, and then you feel it. Chloe’s hand slips into yours and squeeze it tightly.

“You can do this, Vic. I’m with you.”

That simple gesture changes everything. You step on the red carpet leading to the grand stairway of Hohenzollern Castle. You don’t hear the cameras clicking, you don’t see the crowd of paparazzi waiting for some good shot from this pitiful event. There is only one thing for you right now, Chloe’s hand in yours. Before you enter, she leans closer to you, kisses you on the cheek softly and whispers.

“I’m sorry I made you to make those hard choices and then blame you for them. Give the Duchess all my rage.”

And it’s enough for you to forget every terrible shit you ever went through. It’s enough for you to know your so-called mother can’t control you anymore. When in the ballroom you spot her immediately. The wicked aura spreads around her. She sees you too. More importantly, she sees Chloe right next to you. She holds the decorum, but the first battle is already won. Thanks to Chloe. She came here with you, she stands by your side despite all the pain it caused her, and this brought you a huge tactical advantage. Because the mighty Duchess didn’t expect it at all.  She couldn’t. She has no knowledge of the power of love.

“Who’s that?”

What does she mean who’s that? Does Chloe forget about your infamous mother? You look at her and then you realise she’s staring at the evil painting on the wall.

“Oh. That’s the grandmother of the Duchess. Also known as Queen of hearts. The rumour has it she worked with Nazis. And also that she was a haughty sadist who enjoyed decapitating anyone who merely annoyed her.”

“What? You’re kidding right?”

Wish you were. None of you looks amused.

“It was a joke, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer but brings Chloe closer and soften expression and voice.

“I need to settle this for good. You can come with me or insult some pathetic aristocrats around in the meantime. It’s up to you. I’ll be quick. Then we’ll figure out where the Cheshire cat is and take our leave.”

“Do you want me to go with you? If I’ll go red wine will definitely be involved or my fists.”

You do want her to go with you. But you know what Duchess can do. She’ll try to hurt Chloe. With words, with lies, with schemes. And you won’t allow that anymore.

“I think this is something I have to do by myself. Besides, you’ve already done so much.”

“You deserve so much more, Victoria. Now go and destroy her.”

That’s Chloe, you know. You kiss her on the lips and release her hand.

The Duchess know you’re approaching. She doesn’t look your way rather pretend to have a meaningful conversation with some douchebags, but she knows. And she saw the kiss. Everyone did. It’s unexpected, but you have no fear, no doubts, no regrets about what must be done.

“Mother.”

You don’t wait to make your presence known. She takes her time to face you. Everyone around politely takes their leave.

“I underestimated your viciousness, Victoria. But at least it’s a sign I taught you well. So now when you humiliated me enough, you can tell that disastrous wench to leave.”

Well, she’s going straight to the business. Maybe it will be even quicker than you thought.

“She’s my girlfriend, and she’ll leave when I leave. Which will be very soon, I assume.”

“Listen, you really can stop now.  You can drop the act. You won. Everyone has to go through some rebellion, you had yours and now--”

She works her ass off to stay calm, you can tell. But she doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get it at all.

“This is not a game. And it has nothing to do with you.”

You raise your voice, and some heads turn your way.

“Of course it is, my dear. The game is what we do to play our part. We pull strings, and we bend the world to our will, not some peasants out there. You made a mistake to go against your own mother, but for this time I’ll be generous and forgive you. As a thoughtful mother, I always have your best interest in mind.”

She’s delirious. She must be. Her crappy speech doesn’t make any sense. You don’t even know what to say to these bulshits.

“Even if I am not happy with this new _lifestyle_ of yours I did some research and accept some deviations from normality exists. If you must have a woman by your side. Taylor Christensen is a suitable choice. You can thank me later for making her available.”

“Your impossible mother. I’m, I’m done with you. Stay out of my life and never dare to approach people I love, or you pay the biggest price. Then I will start the game without rules, you are so obsessed with.”

It shocks you. She actually believes she’s righteous. She fucking dared to involve poor Taylor to her stupid game. You prepared some well-aimed words that would hurt her, but after her last confession, you realise you don’t want to be HER. Despicable person hurting others with her poison. Only to prove she’s the champion of the just. You want to be out of her world forever. She grabs your hand and is very close to burying your intention to be the better person than her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She shouts. If someone hasn’t been watching till now, they already are.

“Don’t be a fool. Can’t you see how much I’ve done for you? Don’t throw it away. Finish your stupid game if you must and finally start to act as a royal daughter.”

She should not say that word.

“I’m not a ROYAL DAUGHTER!”

You spot Chloe at the corner of your eyes pushing some royal prick away from her, and the rage that transformed you to the beast in the football stadium on Sunday is back. You turn to your mother and decide to channel it properly.

“YOU wanna ruined me like your mother ruined you, but I’m not like YOU. I’m not vicious, superior or some crazy woman who lost her way. You chose hate, but I choose love.”

You free your hand from her grip briskly and leave her to her misery.

“Victoria!”

She’s really lucky that for now another royal shit, your womaniser cousin is pissing you more than her. Otherwise, you would not hesitate to use a fist against her vicious face. You head to the display with two sabers instead. Those belonged to the Wilhelm II last German emperor and King of Prussia. He is going to be turning in his grave when he realise what are you planning to do with his sacred symbols of might. The Duchess sees you with deadly weapons in your hands and backs off. She must think you plan to use them against her. Her expression is hilarious.  You make it through the ballroom, stand in front of your asshole cousin.

“Christian Karl August, Prince of Hohenzollern, you offend me and my honour when dare to speak with the woman I love, I am calling you out for the duel.”

Christian Karl August is German triple champion in fencing and world vice-champion and endless prick, but you’re the woman in love, and you will fight for her.

“I always thought you’re a bit empty, lost and delirious, Victoria but didn’t expect you to be utterly dense. Have your duel and embarrass yourself and your dull, cheap slut.

* * *

 

**Saturday, January 18, 2014,**

**7:31 pm., Hohenzollern Castle, Germany**

Before you can pacify the sleazy aristocrat with red wine, Victoria shows up with two sabers. You don’t even have time to blink, and they are engaged in the duel. _What the fuck is going on?_ That piece of shit will not hurt, your love.

“Do not interfere, Miss Price. I dare you. It won’t bring any good to anyone.”

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Some stupid waiter won’t tell you what to do. You are about to tell him to fuck off when you realise it’s not a regular waiter. It’s Mr. Driver disguised as a waiter.

“Are you fucking insane. I will not stand idly and watch Victoria being killed. And what the hell are you doing here?” You are about to knock him down without waiting for an answer, but his grip is surprisingly firm.

“She can handle it. Have faith. Let her.”

Your mindless chat is going nowhere, and in the meantime, that royal bastard cut Victoria’s arm.

“Have faith? Let her?  She’s fucking bleeding. Can’t you see?”

The fury goes through your veins, and you are ready to fight every fucking wanker who stands in your way. But tables are turned. The arrogant cabbagehead underestimated Victoria Chase, now retreating from her witty strikes. She outmanoeuvres him, and when he loses the balance, she hits his nose with the hilt of the saber with a full force. He’s defeated and humiliated squirming on the floor. The grip on your shoulder is released.

Then she turns and points the chord to her mother.

 _“Now my charms are all o'erthrown,_  
_And what strength I have's mine own,_  
_Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,_  
_I must be here confined by you.”_

What a weird language she uses, you think. How super badass she looks, you notice. Total Claire Lightning Farron with her blazefire saber. If you two ever have a wedding, she must bear a sword. The combination of dress and weapon makes her look irresistible. Unexpected wedding thought overload your attention, so you almost miss Victoria abandoned the royal audience and is facing you now.

_“Release me from my bands_

_With the help of your good hands.”_

She lowers the saber...

 _“And my ending is despair,_  
_Unless I be relieved by prayer,_  
_Which pierces so that it assaults_  
_Mercy itself and frees all faults.”_

...and kneels down in front of you.

 _“As you from crimes would pardon'd be,_  
_Let your indulgence set me free.”_

You just have been forgiven, but more importantly, Victoria finally assigned you to the task you’ve been yearning to fulfil since Christmas Eve. You wish to have some renaissance poetry in the pocket. Unfortunately it never has been your thing. So as always, Dido will do.

 _“What you feel is what I feel for you_  
_Take my hand and if I'm lying to you_  
_I'll always be alone._ ”

You bow and offer your hand. She gladly accepts and stands up. Your look suggests you’re not done yet, so she leans into you and let you speak.

_“You are pig people and should live amongst the pigs.”_

It’s not Shakespeare, nor Goethe or Schiller, you actually can swear some girl from TV show said that, but so what. It fits. Your saber companion chuckles and nods. Time to leave. You rush through the crowd and exit the ballroom. First, you ran across the castle in silence, but then she squeezes your hand tighter whispering in your ear.

“You know Dido wrote that song to put more boys in bed and it worked, don’t you? She mentioned that when performing at Brixton. I saw on youtube.”

“What?! I tried to be romantic. If  that song is only about sex, she won’t get away with it.”

She pulls your hand and stops you. “Wait.”

“Vic, I get it now, you are a saber master, Claire Farron double and you probably can handle the whole horde of royal pricks, but I still rather _wait_ with you anywhere but here.  So let _my indulgence set you free_ and take you from this twisted castle ASAP.”  

“I just want to tell you, I love you and it simply couldn’t wait.”

She kisses your lips and then does the most peculiar thing. She puts two fingers in her mouth and makes the long high sound. Whistle. You have no idea what the fuck it means, till the Classic British blue shorthair cat appears and rolls towards you. Although he seems all chubby and clumsy, he jumps to Victoria’s arms swiftly.

“Guess what, fatty. You’re coming with us.”

What else Cheshire cat could do better than grin? So he grins but stays with her all the way till you reach the silver Audi outside.

“Lady Victoria, wait.” Mr. Driver approach you with haste. “Let me drive, you’re injured, and Miss Price is overexcited. Those are not suitable conditions for driving in this lousy weather.

You remember his hand on your shoulder, you remember the morning and Albert’s words about the video and your adrenaline do the rest of the work.

“You bastard.”

Your fist does the same job as the hilt of Victoria’s saber did in the ballroom. David Madsen stumbles on his feet and steps back. He knew exactly what was that for. You are so mad you want to punch him again, but Victoria stops you.

“Chloe, Chloe, please let him be.”

“He did this. Didn’t you?” If the look could kill, he would be a goner. “When you obtained that stupid video you should erase it, immediately not give it to Richard fucking Chase, you idiot!”

“It was my job. But as much as it’s worth I don’t work for Richard W. Chase anymore. This is my last favour for him. And my last task to keep you safe, Lady Victoria. So please, let me drive you from this hellhole.”

You look at Victoria and she nods, so you accept the offer reluctantly and enter the back seat.

Enthusiasm and adrenaline from great escape are fading away slowly. You patched Victoria’s arm with supplies from first aid kit. It’s not much, but you clear the wound and cover it. She’s resting her head on your shoulder, and you think she followed the path of Cheshire cat who fell asleep in her lap. You would not be surprised. Both of you have a couple of sleepless night behind you.

You are replaying the whole fight scene in your head and ponder how serious is Victoria’s injury when her question brings you back to reality.

“You believe me now?”

“What do you mean?”

She raises her head and Cheshire cat grumpily jump down from her lap.

“I won the duel with a man who pursued a relationship with you. Well, probably only the sexual encounter but I duelled him and won. I recited Shakespeare, and I did it in front of the whole royal family. Is it enough of the proof that I want you and only you?”

Damn. She really did all that. For you. She does love you. But..

“Vic, it’s not about… it has never been quite about who you want but about if I am good enough for you. You did all those things...for me. You said you love me and I believed you. But why? Why you love me Victoria? I’m a psycho chick.  What possibly can I offer you that for example, Taylor doesn’t have?”

“Chloe, just stop it. Don’t undermine yourself. It’s madness.”

“Well, answer then.”

“You’re fearless.”

“I’m so not fearless.”

“You invaded the Chase manor and ruled there without even making a sweat. You were ready to stand up for me when I was nothing but mean to you. You play with broken ribs to back up your team. You lied to Kellerman to protect me when I pepper sprayed you. You are fearless and beautiful and strong, and I love you so much Chloe, I can’t even explain. What you’ve done for me, what you are doing. I should be doubting if I deserve it.”

“Vic…”

“What I’ve accomplished recently. It’s only because of you. I cannot imagine being without you, anymore. I need you. Do you get it, Chloe?  How lost I was before you changed everything. Heinous bitch without a real purpose under the vicious influence of the Duchess.”

“You weren’t…”

“I was.”

“Ok, you were, but you were at least honest proud heinous bitch. That counts. You never pretended to be something you’re not. Give yourself some credit. ”

“You know how to compliment a girl, don’t you?”

“I know how to compliment you because I love everything about you.”

“Not everything, I bet.”

“Absolutely everything. Well except your insane family.”

She looks at you, and you feel so embarrassed you ever doubted if you two should be together. Or if she cares about you enough. Or if you are good enough for her because of that look of hers, it says you mean everything to her. You bid her to lay on your lap, and she gladly does so. This is where she belongs after all. She belongs with you. You’ve already made the decision when spoke with the SC Sand coach on Tuesday. You weren’t ready to admit it back then, but now you are.

“I’m not going to Berlin next year.”

She wants to sit up, but you gently caress her hair and suggest you need to have your speech and she needs to listen, not interrupt you.

“Sand offered me a new contract. I spoke with the coach and manager on Tuesday. It’s not better than the one I could have with Potsdam, but it’s much better than the one I have now. If… When we promote to the Bundesliga, it will also be plenty of bonuses. With some endorsement, I was reluctant to accept before, but I am willing to take now I should be financially stable. Strasbourg airport is 30 minutes with train from Willstätt, and there are 4 direct flights per day to Barcelona. Not to mention it’s 1000 kilometres closer than Berlin. But you have to call me every day, and we have to see each other at least once per week. As a woman you love I demand it, and I need it, too. And also one naked selfie every day but two or three are much better.”

She remains silent. Motionless for a moment. And you hope she will not try to convince you to go to Berlin. If Potsdam is really interested in you, they will want to in two years as much as they want you now. Not to mention you’ll progress and be a much better footballer after such time. You are about to say to Victoria when she takes your hand and kisses it.

“I’m not going to Barcelona.”

You want to express your disagreement, but another kiss of hers suggests, now it’s her time to have her speech.

“On Tuesday afternoon…” She chuckles a bit “I guess we both had eventful Tuesday. So on Tuesday I sent the email and refused the scholarship on Art school in Barcelona. It was right after the meeting with Women’s Health France editor. Their HQ is in Strasbourg. I applied for the part-time photographer. I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t very confident they would want me. The Editor saw the pictures of you, the pictures that helped me win the Young photographer annual contest. She loved them, and I got the job. It wasn’t Berlin but I thought 1000 kilometres is far less than 2000.  And when I would earn enough money I could move to Berlin. I-I wanted to tell you, but Steph needed you that evening, and then, everything went to hell.

She pauses and become distracted.

“Because of my mother.”

She sits, and you realise she’s at the edge of crying.

“Damn. Damn the fucking Duchess. She-- She--”

You put both hands on her cheeks and do your best being support she needs, she deserves.

“The Duchess is done. She’s out of your life and after your stunning act today,  she’ll never dare to come back.”

Victoria sinks into your arms and holds you tightly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should-- I should confront her sooner, I should be braver and--”

“Vic, there is nothing to be sorry about.”

Now, knowing all this, you feel like a total moron, blaming Victoria for that video, being irrationally jealous. 24 hours ago you yearned for an apology, for her to admit she did wrong. Now you see how idiotic it was. The only person responsible for this mess is the fucking Duchess. Well and Richard W. Chase as, well.

“You did nothing wrong, baby. And finally, it’s over. No chance, you’re going back to that creepy royal mansion.”

You don’t think much about what are you saying, as always, but it’s exactly what you feel.

“You are staying with us. Dad can rearrange the workshop. I’ll settle there, and you’ll stay in my room and--”

“Chloe…”

“No Victoria, don’t overthink it. We gonna make through this. I don’t want you to spend any more second in that house in the proximity of your wicked family. It’s destroying you. It always did.  And I won’t allow it anymore.”

“I was seriously considering about moving out for some time, you know that, but--”

“No, buts. Till you’ll figure things out with your own place, you stay with us.”

“I can stay with Taylor… I mean Courtney. No staying with Taylor of course, even if it’s nothing--”

“Vic, It’s cool really, I was an asshole, doubting you and being jealous. You don’t have to stay with none of them, though. If I am the problem, if you require your space, we don't have to see each other much. I can manage it. I just want you close. I need to know you’re safe.”

“Chloe,  It's not about you. What your parents would…”

“Nothing. They don't mind. You said you need me. Victoria, I need you as much. Stay with me.”

“I do apologise for interrupting, Ladies...”

The driver speaks for the first time you left the Hohenzollern castle. To be honest, you were so focused on Victoria, on two of you that you forgot about him. You forgot about the whole world.  He reaches for his pocket and hands you his phone.

“...but there is a video message waiting for you. Maybe you should watch it first.”

Victoria takes the phone curiously, and you suspect she knows who recorded it. She waivers at first but hit the play button, eventually. Richard W. Chase greets her and then, surprisingly he greets you too. He... He is nothing like you remember him. He wears regular sweater, and his hair doesn’t look like he just left barber. Also, his eyes are different. Not empty anymore. Watery? He apologises for not being able to stop the Duchess from sending the video. He apologises and regrets dozens of other things, only Victoria could understand. You hold her free hand the whole time. She doesn’t show a single emotion, but the grip intensifies. At the end of the message the mighty Grand Duke, indestructible CEO cannot suppress the tears. Victoria can. There is nothing left for this man in her heart.

She hands the phone back to Mr. Driver, and he gives her keys and an envelope with legal documents probably. Richard W. Chase said he bought an apartment in Willstätt and it’s hers. She’s listed as the official owner in the land register so she can do whatever she wants with it. She puts down everything on the seat as if she was undecided how to deal with this unexpected gift.

“David,” she uses his real name for the first time. You’re not sure if that treacherous bastard deserves it but its Victoria’s decision to make not yours, “I would appreciate if you tell my father I desire to give up all of my hereditary titles and privileges. If he really wants to do something for me, he’ll arrange that.”

“Of course Lady Victoria.”

“And it’ll start with you stop calling me Lady.”

“Of course L--”

“Victoria will do. Will you drive us to Chloe’s house, now?”

“I will, Victoria.”

She puts her head back on your shoulder. Combined with her recent statements your happiness multiplies.

“Does it mean, you’re not my princess anymore?”

“A duchess.”

“Huh?”

“Technically I am a duchess as my mother, not a princess. And I rather not be any of it.”

“Well, whatever. You can be my Mrs Price if that sounds better.”

“Only with a diamond ring.”

“No problem. I find a part-time job in Uranus pit. In 97 years I should have enough money for your diamond ring.”

“Silly. Did I say I love you?”

“No. I don't think so.”

“I love you Chloe Price. And I don't need any ring. But if you want me to be your Mrs Price Cheshire cat stays with us. You have to adopt him.”

“Damn. I prefer Uranus pit instead of an overweight cat.”

“Lower your voice. He can hear you. You are hurting his feelings.”

She giggles. He doesn’t hear a shit, however, because he’s sleeping at her feet.

“Mrs Victoria Price. Doesn’t sound bad. Not at all.”

She mutters and snuggles closer. You have to agree with her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the conclusion for Chloe and Victoria, more or less. There will be two more chapters about Taylor and Steph and then Epilogue. So stay tuned if you are into super cheesy endings :)
> 
> …and as always, thanks for reading. I love you all.
> 
>  
> 
> Trivia
> 
>  _I’m sorry I made you to make those hard choices and then_ _blame you for them_ was originally said by Cosima to Delphine in Orphan black s03ep10.
> 
> After the duel, Victoria recites verses from Shakespeare’s Tempest.
> 
> Chloe responds with lyrics of Dido’s _Take my Hand_
> 
>  _You are the pig people and should live amongst pigs_ are words of Cheryl Blossom. Riverdale s02ep18.


	35. The other girls

**Monday, March 31, 2014,**

**12:11am., Wilstätt Academy, Wilstätt, Germany**

You are not very good at this. Scheming, plotting, doing anything behind someone’s back. You are well known for being straightforward, not another way. But you have to do this. You owe it to Victoria.  Maybe she would interfere herself, but she’s kind of busy with whole moving to her own place thing. You check the phone, that doesn’t belong to you, but there is no new message, yet. _Shit._ You hope this will work. It must. You quicken your pace and reach the auditorium room and sneak in. The situation is not ideal, but you believe they still love each other.

Steph hates herself for jumping to conclusion and hurting Taylor. As much as you can tell she suffers like a wounded animal and is unable to do anything except playing Diablo or mindlessly roaming the school halls trying hard to avoid her now ex-girlfriend. Well, you are pretty sure she’s trying to meet her but pretends to be avoiding her to give her space. From what Victoria told you Taylor is still very much in love with Steph, but she doesn’t trust her anymore, thus is not ready to take her back. Especially when Steph is incapable to even make a move. Which would be difficult, anyway because unlike Steph, Taylor really does avoid her ex-girlfriend because she’s hurt as fuck and as Victoria said at the verge of tears constantly. So that’s why you came with this insane plane. You run up the stairs to the technical room and check if everything’s ready. It is, so you sigh with relief and dare to peek to the stage. Then you sense someone behind you. Not someone. The distinctive scent and empty technical room would make your body shiver, but there is an essential task in front of you.

“What are you doing here, Vic?”

You say without turning, feeling Victoria pressing against your back her hand slipping under your shirt.

“You’ve stolen my phone, Chloe.”

She responds with the sultry voice suggesting the stolen/borrowed phone is not what she has in mind.

“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it.”

You are about to turn around and face her, but she has other plans with you. It involves her lips on your neck and her hand trying to find a way inside your pants. Shit.

“Whatever you call it, I bet you are planning something sneaky. So spill your guts. Now.”

“You are a pain in the ass Victoria, you know that?”

“Am I?”

Damn her. Your head is spinning, and you want her to claim you so much, but it has to wait.

“Vic, I’d love you to continue, but they will be here in no time.”

“What? Who…?”

Her phone in your possession chimes.

Taylor:

_I’m coming, V._

Victoria

_Be there in five minutes. Wait for me at the stage._

Victoria stares at you in awe when you respond and finally give her the phone back. She probably yearns to ask what’s going on, but Steph’s arrival disrupts her intention.  You pick your own phone, write to Steph and pray it will work.

Me:

_Just be yourself. And sing._

You had told her to meet you in the auditorium. Nothing more. If you revealed your real intentions, she wouldn’t come because she’s convinced she screwed up. So Steph is not aware of what you’ve prepared, and she’s not aware you are here in the technical room with a great view on the stage. That’s why she looks all confused. Before she can respond Taylor shows up. Victoria has that _WTF_ look on her face, but it’s nothing compared to two girls down in the auditorium. You push the green button on the console, and Veronica Mars version of One way or another song starts to play.

You feel a pinch of panic when Steph still not singing, and Taylor looks like she’s going to leave. In the last possible moment, the words about how _she gonna find her and win her one way or another_  fill the auditorium. It’s not the best reconciliation song, but from Victoria, you know Taylor loves it. Especially Veronica Mars version. You swear you notice a hint of a smile in the end when Steph tries the funny dance. When the song is over and atmosphere a bit lighter, you hope she will know what to do.

“Taylor, I am so sorry for doubting you. I am ready to do anything to prove myself.”

Her words are sincere and soft, and if it were you, you’d take her back in no time. Taylor sighs and you realise you are super nervous about this whole thing, even if it doesn’t concern you. As if Victoria could sense it she takes your hand and squeezes it gently. The scene above you is going to take some dramatic twist.

“Steph, you broke up with me with a text message and then treat me like the worst criminal.”

“I know. I am a loser, but I’ll never stop till you’re mine again. Whatever it takes, I know we can make it through.”

“With the text message, Steph.”

“No, no, no... please don’t.”

Taylor pulls the phone out of her bag and reads it loudly.

“ _I never want to see you again. You, bitch!”_

After song lighter mood is long gone. You almost can’t believe Steph would write something like that. Steph the badass, but the gentleman at the same time, the kindest person you know.

“I saw that video and I saw red. I remembered everything I went through with…”

“I’m not HER!”

It’s for the first time ever you see Taylor Christensen angry. The way Victoria fidgets suggests, it’s not only your _first time_ experience.

“I know.”

Steph whispers. It seems she never encountered enraged Taylor either. Is she thinking about surrendering? _Damn girl, woman up._ You almost shout, but Vic ceases your emotions when her forefinger touches your lips tenderly. You turn to her and despite the land of sorrows down in the auditorium, the moment Victoria looks you in the eye you feel pure happiness. You almost threw away the best thing in your life because of doubts, but she didn’t let you.

“I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you. I think I was twelve.”

Taylor’s words bring you back to not so happy reality. The anger vanished. Her voice is soft and vulnerable. You both peek to the stage again.

“It was in the hobby centre. I wanted to join the drama club. Mum came with me for the first time. She thought I was nervous because of it. But it was because of you. You wore this cool t-shirt with eye symbol. _Neverwinter Nights?”_

“Neverwinter Nights.”

“Suddenly drama club wasn’t that much interested. I only saw you for a couple of moments until the computer group starts, but it was enough to make my day. Tuesday and Thursday were my favourite days of the week because you were there. So close, still so far away because I didn’t exist for you.”

You can’t believe you were afraid that Taylor is into Victoria when the whole time there was only one girl in the world for her.

“You can imagine how happy I was on my first day at high school when I saw you there. But nothing changed. I still didn’t know how to approach you, and you still have no idea who I am. And then, sophomore year and the school play. I bet you remember. Her, not me.”

Steph looks pale as death. You kinda know what happened next. Everyone does. Steph and the girl who played the lead started dating. You weren’t in Wilstätt back then, and you never imagined this story has another side. Taylor Christensen side.

“What possibly could be the better opportunity to catch your attention than playing the lead when you were supposed to do the backstage work. It was a great plan. But it didn’t work, did it Steph? Someone else won the part and your heart. “

You wonder if Victoria knows. Quick glance her way is a straight confirmation she’s not a stranger to these memories.

“But it wasn’t the worst. As time went, it became obvious your perfect girlfriend is not so sweet and innocent as she pretended to be. At least to Victoria and me. You were head over heels for her when she lied to you and cheated on you, and then I guess at some point you knew, but you were so much in love you didn’t want to see it, did you?”

Steph only nods, and it’s almost painful to watch...

“And there was nothing I could do. I failed you. Oh, how much I hated her. And I hated myself.”

...but there is so much love and devotion in Taylor speech, you believe their love will win.

“When she left, and you finally broke up, it felt great. You were down, but somehow I knew that little punk who moved from Berlin will have your back. It took time but you were happy again and as much as I wanted to be a reason for your happiness I had no place in your world. I decided to move on, went on dates. Mingling with boys didn’t work much, but it was something at least.”

Steph finally dares to step closer...

“When MDMA-d Victoria kissed me in the club, it was my first kiss with a girl. And it was amazing. Still, the only thing I could think of was you. I wanted it to be you. I wanted you to be my first.”

...and reaches for Taylor’s hand. She is struggling at first but lets Steph hold it eventually.

“I thought she loved me, but she never did. She only loved herself. When I saw the video, it all came back. How much of an idiot I was to trust her. How much I suffered after she left. I freaked out. And I hurt you in the process. Taylor, I am genuinely really sorry I let the mess from my past mess up with our relationship. Because You and I are something completely different than _her_ and I. We are real Taylor. No pretending, no lying, no secrets.”

“Did Victoria help you with this?”

Careful what you say Steph, you think. She has no idea who _helped_ her, and you have no idea if Victoria’s involvement could be advantage or disadvantage in this situation. Especially when she didn’t know anything about your plan, a couple of minutes ago.

“I definitely had some help. I couldn’t reach you any other way.”

“Steph, I wasn’t ready to face you. To talk to you.”

“But we are here now, talking. Facing each other.”

Despite the mention of talking the moment of silence spreads around. Steph raises her hand and cups Taylor’s face, and if they were closer to you, you swear you’d hear a whimper. If this will go ahead as you wish, you should probably not linger. At least there is an emergency exit from the technical room.

“So will you...will you give me another chance?”

“You know I love you Steph. I’ve always had and I always will…” You are ready for victorious dance and escape, but Taylor frees yourself from Steph touch, and your heart sinks. “...I can’t take you back, though.”

“Oh.”

After the heartbreaking story of how Taylor loved Steph the whole time, the famous Demon Hunter didn’t expect this, you can tell. You didn’t expect this. Victoria didn’t, it’s clear from her expression. No one could expect Taylor dismiss the genuine attempt to reconcile with the girl who means everything to her. _Shit._

“I’m only eighteen, and maybe I am supposed to act differently, maybe I should not take things so seriously and be more carefree, but I can’t change how I feel.”

Steph makes a step forward in a desperate attempt to reach Taylor again, but she backs off and shakes her head.

“I want to be with you, I do. I never wanted anyone else, and for now, I can’t imagine I ever will. This image of you I created through years of unrequited love has not even been proved proper but the real you exceed all of my expectations. That’s why I wanted to believe in you in us, but you didn’t. Deep down you’ve always expected me to betray you like she did.”

“That’s not true, T. I just…”

“‘Tis’ true. And I can’t live like that. I cannot be in the relationship threatened by some vicious memory from your past.  Only because she hurt you, you regard I’ll do the same. I’m sorry Steph, but I can’t do this and I won’t. We are not going back together.”

“No. No, no, no. I refuse to accept that. I will not accept that, Taylor.”

Steph finally engages the battle mode, and you curse her for not doing it sooner because it’s working.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“You are? You are.”

“Of course I am. I still hope there is a chance for us. But I have no clue what you should do to prove yourself. I’m afraid you have to figure this out by yourself, S.G. I wish you all the best, though. Hopefully, this isn‘t the farewell.”

Or maybe it’s not working after all. Shit. Double Shit. Taylor leaves, and after the long, painful moment, Steph does the same. She was given a ray of light, the glimpse of hope but instead of feeling hopeful you experience something like a kick in the unguarded shin. If you want to scream in pain how terrible must Steph feel?

“Bollocks. I failed. They..they just left. Without reconciliation. I just failed. It failed. The plan didn’t work. How it didn’t work?”

The disappointment is replaced with spite. You are pissed at Taylor for leaving, you are pissed at Steph for not trying harder you are pissed at yourself for not coming with a better plan. You are pissed at Victoria because instead of saying something she pulls you into her embrace and tries to sooth you. And you are pissed because it works and you are actually calming down.

“Damn it, Vic.” You almost sob. “I-I thought true love can win over so much more than wicked Duchess or shadow of the ex.  I mean look at us.”

“It’s going to be alright, love.” Victoria looks at you fondly and gives you a soft peck. “I’m proud of what you did, that you tried to help them but Taylor’s right. Steph has to gain her trust again.”

You want to disagree and argue about how love should be enough but remember your own ups and downs with Victoria.

“Urgh...but they are supposed to be together. They are meant to be. Why wait, if they are meant to be?”

It so simple and it’s so complicated, and if not in Victoria’s arm you already were extremely frustrated again.

“They will be, eventually.”

Thankfully, that‘s precisely where you are. And it’s nice to hear it from Vic too, but you need to be sure it’s not only the attempt to appease you. You need it to be true.  Really true. For your own sake.

“Do you really believe that?”

“Of course I do, Chloe. You are right, true love can win over so much more. It just needs time.”

Says the girl who admitted herself she didn’t believe she’s capable of love. Six months ago, before your lives intertwined unexpectedly, she was convinced love doesn’t exist in the world full endless demands. But against all odds she loves. And what's even better, it’s you who she loves. So yes, now you believe her. Taylor and Steph are going to be alright. In a week or two. You are pretty positive it will be soon enough.  

 


End file.
